“…to my family’s trust fund,” I finished, savoring the stunned silence that followed.
Margaret’s face contorted with panic. Her carefully crafted façade of superiority crumbled as the implication of those words sunk in. The realization that the very empire they lorded over me was about to slip through their fingers was a delicious irony that I savored internally.
Michael’s eyes darted anxiously between the document and me, as if hoping to find a loophole, an escape from the trap he had inadvertently set for himself. His lawyer, though allegedly the best in town, had overlooked this crucial clause, blinded by their own arrogance and certainty of an easy victory.
