He had saved me from spending the night on the street, and I was about to ask him to stick his neck out for me. The least I could do was be respectful about what might be an insecurity for him.
After dinner, we moved to the lounge to drink and talk over a crackling fire.
I told him everything, and he listened, patient and attentive.
I couldn't help but compare him to Vincent, who always became the busiest man in the world when I wanted to talk, even though I was the one doing most of the work.
"Unless you can get proof he forged your signatures, the only way to get everything is to buy them back."
I sighed, exhausted both physically and mentally. "I don't have the money to buy back everything."
And I wouldn't pay Vincent a dime for what was rightfully mine.
"But I do. As well as the resources to have Vincent investigated for fraud."
I stared at him, contemplative. "You would do that for a stranger?"
He brought out a ring box from his housecoat pocket and held it out to me. "I would do that and more for my wife."
I took the box and opened it to reveal a stunning ring. It was a little more subtle than Stacy's ring, but to me, it was far more beautiful.