Arthur’s voice came through the speaker, low, clipped, and razor sharp.
Arthur: Elena, remain calm. Are you in a safe position right now?
Elena: I’m standing right outside the private dining suite. I heard every single word.
Arthur: Did Marcus mention the Chicago buyers by name?
Elena: He confirmed the wire transfer. Two hundred million dollars cash for my father's commercial logistics terminals.
Arthur: That matches our forensic audit. Clara filed a fraudulent power of attorney two weeks after your father's memorial service.
Elena: And Marcus? What is his name doing on the estate deeds?
Arthur: He was registered as the secondary managing trustee ten days ago. He submitted a falsified prenup amendment claiming you surrendered full voting rights upon marriage.
Elena leaned her head back against the wallpaper, her pulse hammering violently in her ears.
Elena: I never signed an amendment. I explicitly told him our personal assets and my trust fund would remain entirely separate.
Arthur: The notary seal is forged. I have two forensic handwriting experts in my office right now who confirmed it in writing.
Elena caught her reflection in the gilded wall mirror down the hall. Her white satin dress was spotless, her pearls radiant against her skin.
She looked like an obedient, grieving heiress getting ready for a fairytale wedding.
Elena: Can we block the Chicago buyers before Monday morning?
Arthur: If you confront them without federal backup, Clara’s attorneys will file an emergency injunction claiming you are mentally incompetent from grief.
Elena: They want to lock me away in a clinic and seize the entire estate?
Arthur: That is exactly their playbook. They have medical affidavits already drafted by paid doctors.
Elena: Then what is our move?
Arthur: We set an airtight trap. Let Marcus bring out the forged agreement during the rehearsal toast tonight.
Elena: He has a blue leather portfolio sitting on the serving cart. I saw it when I walked past.
Arthur: Perfect. The second he hands you that pen in front of the board members, we walk in with federal agents.
The latch clicked, and the heavy door swung outward into the hall.
Marcus stepped into the corridor, smoothing his silk lapels with an easy, confident smile.
Marcus: Elena! Darling, what are you doing hiding out here in the draft?
Elena ended the call with a quick slide of her thumb, slipping the small phone deep into her velvet coat pocket.
She turned around, letting a soft, innocent smile touch her face.
Elena: Just catching my breath, Marcus. The dress feels a little tight around my ribs tonight.
Marcus: You look breathtaking, sweetheart. Here, I brought you a glass of vintage champagne.
Elena looked down at the flute he offered, her stomach churning with disgust.
She took the chilled glass gently by its stem.
Elena: Thank you, Marcus. Did my phone ever finish charging in the car console?
Marcus: Oh, the battery was completely drained. I left it plugged in so it doesn't interrupt our special evening.
Elena: You always think of everything.
Marcus: Of course I do. Tonight is about celebrating our future together. Come inside, the board is waiting.
Marcus placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, guiding her toward the dining room doors.
Elena felt the chill of his palm through her silk sleeve, but she didn't flinch.
Elena: Let's go make tonight unforgettable, Marcus.
Marcus: That's my girl. Let's show everyone how strong this family is.
Elena: Oh, history will definitely be made tonight.
Marcus: Did you say something?
Elena: Just that I can't wait for dinner.
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