“Stop overreacting, you’re ruining her day!” my mother hissed, grabbing my hair and pushing me over the balcony railing at my sister’s party. I blacked out. When I woke up, the upscale venue was surrounded by federal agents, and my mother was sobbing on her knees while my sister held a document and begged me…

him as a visionary.

And Patricia?

Sometimes, when the city is quiet, I think of her.

She had been forced to liquidate the Chestnut Hill mansion to pay off her mounting legal fees and SEC fines. The high-society friends who had once clamored for her favor abandoned her the second her checkbook dried up. She now lived in a cramped, outdated apartment in continue reading …