Michael’s phone vibrated beside his plate.
He looked at the screen.
Then quickly turned it facedown.
Too late.
I had already read the notification.
BANK SECURITY: ACCOUNT ACCESS SUSPENDED.
I smiled.
“Something wrong?”
Michael looked at me coldly.
“Nothing you would understand.”
Evelyn laughed softly.
I took another sip of wine.
Thirty minutes earlier, while everyone prepared dinner, I had been inside my study.
My injured arm made typing difficult.
But I did not need a keyboard.
The house had a voice-controlled security system.
I sent three encrypted files directly to my attorney, Rebecca Sloan.
The first contained kitchen security footage.
The second contained documents Michael had prepared using my name.
The third contained the original Carter Family Trust.
The document none of them had ever bothered to read.
Michael’s access to several accounts had already been suspended.
His forged transfer request had been flagged.
And the trust proved something very simple.
The mansion was mine.
The company was mine.
The lake property was mine.
Michael had no independent ownership of any of it.
Then his phone vibrated again.
This time Tessa noticed.
“What’s happening?”
Michael stood.
“Nothing.”
But his face had gone pale.
Evelyn finally stopped smiling.
Then the doorbell rang.
Exactly eight o’clock.
Michael looked toward the hallway.
“Who could that be?”
I calmly set down my glass.
“Someone who has come to explain who actually owns this house.”
Comments (0)