“I am his wife,” I countered, holding my ground as adrenaline surged through my veins. “And under the terms of Julian’s trust, I am the sole executor of his estate and the rightful owner of the Oak Tailor property downtown.”
Caleb leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a menacing whisper. “Listen to me very carefully. My firm is constructing a fifty-story luxury tower on that exact block, and that property anchors the entire project. I’ve spent three years aligning investors for this deal. If you attempt to stand in my way, my lawyers will bury you in litigation until you don’t have a single cent left. Hand over the deed, or I will ruin you.”
Arthur stepped smoothly between us, pulling a crisp document from his jacket. “Actually, Caleb, Julian anticipated your exact threats. He executed an irrevocable transfer deed forty-eight hours ago, backed by video depositions from two independent psychiatrists confirming his mental competency. The property no longer belongs to the Vance family. It belongs to Nora.”
