My Mother Threw Me Out in Front of 23 Guests—Three Years Later, My Brother Stopped at My Gate.

By late Thursday afternoon, the heavy heat had settled thick over the marsh. Amanda was in the manor’s library, carefully peeling back water-damaged horsehair plaster to expose the original hidden chimney flue, when she heard the distinct, polished cadence of Italian leather heels against the plywood subfloor.

It wasn't Ethan.

A tall, impeccably groomed man in a charcoal pinstripe three-piece suit stepped into the room. He carried a leather briefcase and an attitude of cold, predatory entitlement. Behind him stood two private security guards in dark suits.

It was Victor Vance—Eleanor’s primary corporate attorney and the architect of her legal maneuvers.

"Amanda," Victor said, his tone smooth, condescending, and thoroughly practiced. "It seems the rumors of your blue-collar renaissance were not exaggerated. You always did have a dramatic flair."

Amanda lowered her scraper and wiped her chalk-covered hands on a rag. She didn't offer a greeting, nor did she flinch.

"You're on an active, hardhat-restricted construction zone, Victor," Amanda said. "OSHA fines start at fourteen thousand dollars per uncertified civilian. Step outside."

Victor chuckled, setting his briefcase down on an antique mahogany side table that had survived the damp. "Let’s skip the posturing, child. Your brother came back to town in hysterics. Eleanor is understandably perturbed that you chose to treat his plea with such childish defiance."

"Did she send you here with another silver spoon to accuse me of stealing?" Amanda countered, stepping down from her stepladder.

Victor opened the briefcase, extracting a thick sheaf of legal bond paper bound with blue ribbon.

"This is a formal settlement deed," Victor said, tapping the documents with a gold-plated pen. "Eleanor is prepared to grant you a lump-sum payment of five hundred thousand dollars. In exchange, you will execute a full release of all claims against Vanguard Heritage Trust, sign the retroactive consent for the Magnolia Crest bridge loans, and resign immediately from your position as chief conservator on this estate."

Amanda didn't touch the papers. "And if I decline your generous hush money?"

Victor’s smile faded, replaced by the razor-edged menace that had terrified Amanda when she was a teenager. "If you decline, we will file a federal lawsuit alleging theft of proprietary trade records and unlawful use of confidential family trust instruments. We will freeze Holloway’s construction financing in probate court for the next five years. You’ll be bankrupt before the summer is out."

Amanda pulled a manila folder from her tool bag and tossed it onto the table directly atop Victor's documents.