I stood up slowly, picking up my handbag.

Marcus, my attorney, gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“We need to go, Avery,” Marcus said. “The press will be outside in minutes.”

I walked toward the double doors, my heels clicking on the wooden floorboards.

Vivian blocked my path, her face twisted in rage.

“You think you can take this family apart?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“You are nothing without the Prescott name.”

“The Prescott name belonged to my mother’s business before your husband bought it, Vivian,” I said.

“I am simply taking back what was ours.”

I walked past her, out into the marble corridor.

The two federal agents were already standing on either side of Callum, who was speaking to them in hushed, desperate tones.

Arthur Vance joined me at the elevator bank, holding a manila envelope.

“The freeze is active,” Arthur said, a small, rare smile appearing on his face.

“The bank has locked the corporate cards.”

“And the house?” I asked.

“The trust owns the Lake Forest estate,” Arthur said. “And the trust is now under court supervision.”