Sterling smiled. “The discount is voided retroactively. You owe the difference between the subsidized rent and the market rate for the last five years. Plus interest.”
Mark put his head in his hands. “I don’t have two million dollars. I don’t have two thousand dollars. She froze the business accounts.”
“Those accounts were funded by Hale Trust,” Sterling reminded him. “They were never yours. You are bankrupt, Mr. Danton.”
Elena appeared on the video conference screen on the wall. She was sitting in a sunlit room, Leo playing in the background. She looked younger, lighter.
“Elena,” Mark pleaded at the screen. “Please. Have mercy. I’m living in a motel in Queens. I lost the Porsche. I lost everything.”
“You didn’t lose it, Mark,” Elena said calmly. “You threw it away. You chose the ego over the family. You chose the mistress over the wife. You chose the lobster over your son.”
“I can cook!” Mark cried. “I have talent! Let me keep the restaurant name. I can start over.”
“The name ‘The Golden Spoon’ is trademarked by the building owner,” Elena said. “It stays with the building.”
She leaned closer to the camera.
“You have your talent, right Mark? Isn’t that what you told me? That you were the genius and I was just the checkbook? Go cook. Prove me wrong.”
She ended the call.
