I opened the folder. The smell of fresh ink and notary stamps drifted up. Ethan thought he was a self-made man. He ran a mid-sized logistics firm, drove a leased Audi, and liked to talk loudly at restaurants about “hustle culture.”

But somewhere deep down, he knew where the foundation of his castle had been poured.

“Let’s review your ‘assets,’ shall we?” I said, pulling out the top document. “Exhibit A: the seed capital for Vanguard Logistics. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Not a gift, Ethan. A loan — with a balloon-payment clause triggerable at the guarantor’s discretion in the event of, let’s check the fine print, ‘conduct unbecoming or detrimental to the guarantor’s estate.'”

His face went slack. “You wouldn’t.”

“Exhibit B.” I pulled out a second sheet. “The mortgage on your townhouse in the city. You didn’t have the credit history for the jumbo loan. I co-signed.