“Jocelyn, please,” he said, his anger suddenly evaporating into pure panic. “If you don’t sign the loan, they’ll foreclose on the townhouses. They’ll take my mother’s house.”

I felt a cold satisfaction at the mention of Gloria’s home.

“That is no longer my concern,” I said.

“You’re a monster,” he whispered. “You’re going to let my mother lose her home?”

“You should have thought about Gloria’s mortgage before you leveraged her property for your bad investments,” I said.

He grabbed the loan documents he had brought and shoved them back into his pocket.

“I’ll find another way,” he spat, his eyes dark with hatred. “I don’t need you. I’ve never needed you.”

He turned and slammed my office door behind him, the glass rattling in its frame.

I sat in the silence of my office for a long moment, watching the dust motes dance in the sunlight.

Then, I picked up my phone and dialed Sterling.

“He refused to sign the divorce papers,” I said when Sterling answered.

“I expected as much,” Sterling replied. “But we have already initiated the next phase.”

“And Gloria’s property?” I asked.