“And we have the trust documents he signed, which completely exclude Evan from any marital asset split upon the violation of the estate vault.”

Evan’s eyes darted from Lydia to the paper on the table.

He looked like a man watching the ground dissolve beneath his feet.

“Claire, talk to me,” he said, taking another step. “We can resolve this privately.”

“There is nothing to resolve,” I said.

“You stole from my father.”

“You brought his private reserve to your mistress’s house.”

Sloane crossed her arms, looking at Evan for reassurance, but he couldn’t look at her.

“We didn’t steal anything,” Vivian interrupted, her voice sharp as glass.

She stood up, smoothing her skirt with trembling hands.

“We were advised that these assets were legally accessible,” Vivian said.

I looked at her, waiting for the lie she had prepared.

“Cole Brantley told us the cellar inventory was not part of the frozen assets,” Vivian continued.

“He assured us that during probate, the wine could be moved for safekeeping.”

“He is a licensed merchant,” she added, her chin rising.

Lydia smiled slightly, a cold, professional gesture.