My mother locked me in a room with five high-powered lawyers and expected me to sign away everything my father had left me. What she didn’t know was that I wasn’t the ordinary government employee my family had always dismissed me as. I was Colonel Sienna Sterling, commander of a specialized military intelligence unit, and while she thought she was cornering a grieving daughter, I was quietly counting the five attorneys around the table and waiting for them to discover that I had prepared an ambush of my own. –

She looked at Richard.

That was the answer.

Richard’s jaw flexed.

“Arthur made financial decisions for the whole family. Sometimes Victoria helped execute them.”

Martin removed another document.

“Using a durable power of attorney that had been revoked.”

Every attorney in the room became completely still.

I leaned forward.

“Say that again.”

“Your father granted Victoria limited financial power of attorney during a surgery four years ago. He formally revoked it eleven months later.”

My mother cut in.

“He told me I could still handle things.”

“Verbally?”

“Yes.”

Martin nodded once.

“Convenient.”

Richard stepped toward him.

“You need to watch your tone.”

I stood.

Richard stopped.

Not because of the uniform.

I wasn’t wearing one.

Not because of my title.

Because for the first time that night, he realized I was not isolated.

Five attorneys were watching.

Documents were on the table.

And whatever story my mother had given them was beginning to collapse.

I turned to Martin.

“How much?”

He didn’t pretend not to understand.

“We have identified approximately two-point-eight million dollars in transactions requiring explanation.”