“They will think it is an inheritance scam,” I said, my throat dry.

“They won’t care about the truth.”

“And Richard,” Ethan added, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“Richard will see her as a threat to his control.”

The mention of his uncle brought a chill into the warm library.

Richard Cole had spent the last two years consolidating his grip on the family empire, watching every dollar that entered or left the estate.

“He has already been asking questions,” Ethan said, turning back to face us.

“He wanted to know why the estate was paying for extra medical insurance for the cottage staff.”

Suddenly, a sharp, electronic chime cut through the silence of the room.

Ethan’s phone, lying face-up on the desk next to the silver frame, lit up with a bright blue glow.

The screen displayed a high-priority email notification.

The sender’s name was bold and black: Richard Cole.

Ethan walked back to the desk and picked up the device.

He swiped his thumb across the glass, his face draining of what little color it had left as he read.