Vivian stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the hardwood floor.

“Claire is being vindictive because of the pending divorce,” Vivian said, her voice rising in pitch.

“She is using a minor administrative oversight to ruin my son’s reputation.”

“We had every reason to believe Cole Brantley had the legal clearance to handle these bottles.”

“He has a power of attorney file for the estate’s commercial transactions.”

“We were told the documents were fully executed and active.”

Lydia stepped forward, her leather heels clicking softly on the floorboards.

She adjusted her glasses and looked down at Vivian with a calm, chilling smile.

“That is a very convenient story, Vivian,” Lydia said.

“But it has one very large flaw.”

Vivian frowned, her eyes narrowing as she looked at my attorney.

“And what is that?” Vivian asked.

“Cole Brantley has already spoken to the state prosecutor’s office,” Lydia said.

The room seemed to grow even colder, the hum of the refrigerator vibrating through the floorboards.

Evan stared at Lydia, his mouth hanging slightly open as his hand fell away from the wine bottle.