The news of Gold Group's bankruptcy came like a belated blizzard, crushing all of Frank Gold's pride.
He curled up in the empty villa, listening to the court's seizure notices being pasted on the front door.
Suddenly he remembered three years ago, when she had smiled at him right here and said,
"Frank, this will be our home."
Back then, he thought her smile was too bright to be dignified.
Now he realized that was the last time he ever saw true sincerity.
The private investigator's file arrived on the seventh night.
Frank Gold only read the first page before his pupils contracted.
Lily Jones's bank statements were dense with transfer records from different men.
The earliest transaction was before they even met.
He kept flipping, his knuckles turning white.
March 2019, Mr. Brown,
