The final confrontation happened the next morning beneath the massive chandelier Vivian purchased with stolen money.
Police vehicles lined the driveway. Two attorneys stood beside me. Before sunrise, a probate judge granted emergency protection over my father’s estate. Hale Construction’s board suspended Marcus pending investigation. Every account connected to Vivian had already been frozen.
She descended the staircase wrapped in silk, trying desperately to appear powerful while everything around her collapsed.
“You think paperwork frightens me?” she snapped.
“No,” I answered calmly. “But prison probably will.”
Marcus stormed behind her clutching his phone. “My accounts are frozen!”
“Temporary restraint order,” my attorney replied evenly.
“You can’t do that!”
“I can,” I said. “And I already did.”
Vivian pointed furiously toward my father sitting beside the fireplace in a wheelchair.
“He gave me everything!”
Dad looked at her quietly. “You took everything.”
“No,” she whispered desperately. “I protected you.”
I opened the folder in my hands.
“You isolated him from his doctors. Altered his medication schedule. Forged signatures. Stole company money through shell vendors. And you paid a mechanic named Luis Ortega to damage his brakes.”
Marcus staggered backward.
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