“Joy, call Mr. Robert right now! Your uncle has to bail my company out!”

Joy had just stepped into the apartment Mr. Robert paid for. The coffee table was buried under a dimming tablet and scattered documents spilling onto the floor and sofa.

The moment she walked in, Georgio shot up and rushed toward her. In just a single day, Joy barely recognized him. The man who was usually sleek and polished now looked disheveled—hair a mess, tie hanging loose, shirt wrinkled.

Joy’s ...