“The property isn’t for sale, Mr. Miller,” I said, my voice steady.

Miller looked at Dorian, his eyebrows raised in question.

“Don’t worry about her,” Dorian said, waving a hand dismissively. “She doesn’t have any legal standing here.”

“Actually, I do,” I said.

I pulled my military ID and a copy of the co-trustee designation from my jacket pocket.

“I am the executor of the Calder Trust,” I said, placing the papers on the table over the blueprints.

Dorian’s smile vanished.

“Vance, give us a minute,” Dorian said, his voice tightening.

The broker nodded quickly and stepped back out onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

Dorian turned on me, his fists clenched at his sides.

“You think you’re smart, don’t you?” he hissed.

“I’m protecting what my father built,” I said.

“Your father was a fool who died penniless,” Dorian said. “This land is worth three million dollars.”

“Not to you,” I said.

My mother let out a small sob from the kitchen doorway.

Dorian ignored her, taking another step closer to me until I could smell the stale coffee on his breath.