“It was never yours,” I said.

“It belongs to the siblings you tried to erase.”

“It belongs to Johnny, Paul, and Lily.”

“And it belongs to the man you tried to ruin.”

I looked at the text on the paper, the elegant, faded ink of Nathan’s grandfather.

The wax seal was cracked, but the imprint of the family crest was still visible.

“This is a signed testament,” I said.

“It leaves forty percent of the voting shares to the heirs of the estate.”

“Not to you.”

“Not to your shell companies.”

Eleanor took another step, her hand reaching out like a claw.

“You are a thief,” she said.

“You stole that from my father’s private desk.”

“I found it where you hid it,” I said.

“In the wall behind the old pantry.”

“The place you thought no one would ever look.”

“Because you thought a housekeeper was too stupid to notice the loose paneling.”

The lead guard looked between Eleanor and me, his hand slowly releasing Nathan’s jacket.

“Is this a private estate document, Mrs. Vance?” the guard asked.

“It is corporate business,” Eleanor said, her voice rising.