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. –

The sentence came out too fast.

Too loud.

And suddenly everyone noticed what I had noticed when I entered.

Richard near the only open interior doorway.

Julian positioned by the hall.

The dining room’s exterior French doors locked.

My mother between me and the foyer.

One of the younger attorneys stood.

“I’m leaving.”

Richard didn’t move.

The attorney stared at him.

“Sir.”

Richard finally stepped aside.

I watched my mother.

“That was your next mistake.”

Her head snapped toward me.

“What are you talking about?”

“You invited independent witnesses.”

“They’re lawyers.”

“Exactly.”

I placed my phone on the table.

Screen up.

The voice recorder was running.

Victoria laughed.

“You think recording your own family makes you clever?”

“I think Connecticut is generally a one-party-consent state for in-person conversations when the circumstances fit lawful recording. But I’m not relying on this recording for everything.”

Her expression shifted.

I opened my handbag.

Removed a second phone.

Placed it beside the first.

Then a small black notebook.