A catering manager stopped mid-step near the sideboard, holding a hot coffee carafe in both hands.

“That’s absurd,” Victoria said, her voice rising an octave.

“I signed the spousal rights agreement when we bought the land.”

“You signed a clear waiver in exchange for the title to the Naples condo, which you sold three years ago to pay off your personal debts,” Arthur said without looking up.

“The deed was recorded four years ago.

Avery holds full, unencumbered title to this entire seventeen-million-dollar property.”

“Wait a second,” Christopher Pembroke said, leaning forward in his chair.