Resting in Clara's hand was a rugged military-spec tactical radio transmitter, embossed with a gleaming gold eagle emblem.
Chloe took an involuntary step backward, the champagne glass in her hand wobbling.
Chloe: Julian... what is that thing? Why does she have that?
Julian: What kind of sick game are you playing, Clara? Drop that junk.
Clara: Your father gave this to me three days before he passed away in Bethesda.
Julian: My father was senile! He had no authority to hand out family relics or military gear to his nurse!
Clara: He wasn't senile when he signed the trust amendments. And this isn't a relic.
Julian's smug expression cracked, his eyebrows pulling together in sudden suspicion.
Julian: Put it away. I'm warning you. Security is right outside that gate.
Clara: Go ahead. Call them. Ask who signs their paychecks this morning.
Chloe: Julian, tell her to leave! She's threatening us inside our own mansion!
Julian: Shut up, Chloe! Clara, look at me. You walk out that door right now, or I'll file an emergency custody petition and strip that child from your arms before sunset.
Clara: You won't touch Liam. You never cared about his life, only the inheritance tied to his birth certificate.
Julian: That estate is mine! The Vance shipping lines, the holding accounts, the offshore trusts—everything belongs to the direct heir!
Clara: Then why did your father keep the master access key in my name?
Julian lunged forward, his polished shoes squeaking on the marble, his face reddening with rage.
Julian: Give me that radio!
Clara stepped back with effortless precision, lifting the tactical unit directly to her lips.
She flipped the protective metal toggle switch, and a crisp, high-frequency digital chirp echoed through the empty hall.
Julian: Don't you dare make that call!
Clara: Bravo-Six, this is Commander Vance's designated trustee. Authorization code Delta-Niner-Four.
A burst of static hissed from the heavy speaker, followed by a deep, disciplined voice.
Dispatcher: Identity confirmed, Trustee Clara Vance. Awaiting your instruction.
Clara: Execute Protocol Omega. Freeze every single account and seize all assets immediately.
Dispatcher: Directives acknowledged. Federal compliance orders and asset holds initiated across all regional branches.
The line went silent with a double electronic beep.
Julian froze in the middle of the room, his arm still outstretched, his chest heaving.
Julian: What did you just do?!
Clara: Exactly what your father asked me to do the second you tried to cut out his grandson.
Before Julian could scream, his phone began vibrating violently inside his jacket pocket.
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