I looked at the bottle of wine sitting in the silver ice bucket.

It wasn’t champagne.

It was a bottle of the 1982 Chateau Lafite Rothschild from my father’s private collection.

The label was slightly damp from the melting ice.

“You even took the wine, Evan,” I said.

My voice was quiet, but it filled the room.

“This bottle was cataloged in the probate inventory yesterday.”

“It’s worth ten thousand dollars on its own.”

“That elevates the theft to a grand larceny charge.”

Vivian set her crystal glass down with a sharp clink.

“This is absurd,” Vivian said, her voice rising.

“My son has a right to his wife’s family assets.”

“They are married.”

“Everything Claire owns belongs to him as well.”

“Not under the Hayes family trust, Vivian,” Lydia said.

She opened her briefcase and pulled out a blue-backed document.

“The prenuptial agreement is ironclad.”

“And the probate seal is a court matter when it involves contested assets.”

“Your son just committed a felony on tape.”

“And Ms. Pierce here is on the tape as well.”

Lydia turned her eyes to Sloane.