They were standing on an estate my family trust had rented, drinking champagne my accounts had paid for.

For ten minutes they had treated the sole controller of the Carter family fortune like a stray dog.

The silence that followed was heavy and total.

No one dared take another sip from their glass.

Ethan stared hard at Vanessa.

His jaw was locked, and he wouldn’t blink.

“Look, you told me she wrote that nasty note turning down the invitation,” Ethan said.

Vanessa ran both hands down her blue silk skirt.