“What did you do?”
“It wasn’t illegal,” he said quickly. “Just… complicated.”
That told me everything.
“How much debt are we actually talking about?”
Another pause.
Then he said quietly:
“Eight hundred thousand dollars.”
I nearly dropped the phone.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
The mortgage was only part of it.
There were business loans.
Lines of credit.
Personal guarantees.
Everything collapsed when one of his partners declared bankruptcy.
“And you expected me to fix that?” I asked.
“We thought if you sold the apartment, we could start negotiating with the banks,” he admitted.
Start negotiating.
Meaning it wouldn’t even solve the problem.
“You were going to drag me into your financial disaster,” I said slowly.
“Michael, we’re desperate.”
“I noticed.”
Then he said something that shocked me.
“Your mother didn’t want to tell you this part.”
“What part?”
Richard took a breath.
“She already used your name once.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“A few years ago… she co-signed a small loan using some of your personal information.”
My blood went cold.
“You committed fraud?”
“It was supposed to be temporary!”
“Did you forge my signature?”
“No! We just… used your credit history to secure the loan.”
Anger surged through me.
“Richard, that’s illegal.”
“I know.”
“Is my name still attached to anything?”
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