“You wore that to Mom’s funeral?” my sister said with a sneer, the diamonds on her wrist catching the light as she adjusted the Valdderee heels on her feet. “I mean, I know things are hard for you, but couldn’t you at least have made an effort?” I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. I had designed this “cheap” dress myself. I owned the label on her shoes. I owned the boutique we were standing in. And one hour earlier, I had personally approved the cancellation of her modeling contract. Then my brother’s bank made the news…

“Among other things,” I said.

“Yes. We’re investigating certain loans made by Western Pacific Bank to fashion startups that appear to be shell companies. Your name came up as someone who might have insight into these businesses.”

Blake’s bank. Blake’s schemes. And now they were sniffing around the edges of my empire, not realizing how vast it truly was.

“I’m happy to help however I can,” I said pleasantly. “Though I should mention my lawyers will need to be present for any formal questioning.”

“Of course. This is just preliminary,” Martinez said. “We’re trying to understand the network of relationships.”

He pulled out a tablet showing a complex web of company names and credit lines.

“Have you heard of any of these entities?”

I recognized half of them—legitimate businesses Blake’s bank had preyed upon, promising easy credit before crushing them with hidden fees and impossible terms. Two had been potential acquisition targets for Morgan Group before the bank destroyed them.

“A few,” I admitted. “Tragic what happened to some of these companies. Predatory lending at its worst.”

Walsh leaned forward. “You seem well informed about their practices.”

“It’s my business to understand the market,” I said. “When promising brands suddenly fail, I pay attention to why.”