The room went completely quiet, the constant clicking of the camera shutters slowing down as the reporters leaned in closer.

“That’s a lie,” Vivian snapped, her hand flying to her chest. “My late husband built our fortune from the ground up.”

“He built it with a ten-million-dollar interest-free loan from my grandfather,” I said.

“A loan that was converted into the Arden Heritage Trust upon my grandfather’s death,” I added.

I pointed to the document in Vance’s hand.

“The trust has one primary condition for its beneficiaries,” I said.

Daniel took a step back, his eyes darting to his mother, then to the federal agents.

“The funds, the assets, and the very properties leased by the Mercer family are contingent on the preservation of our marriage contract,” I said.

“And more importantly, on the respect and legal compliance of the beneficiaries toward the executor.”

“Which is me,” I added.

“Any attempt to defraud the executor results in the immediate, automatic dissolution of the trust.”

“You’re making things up,” Daniel said, but his voice lacked its previous strength.