“You won’t fight anything, Richard,” I said, stepping forward. I picked up the cash he had thrown at my feet earlier and placed it neatly on the table.
“Because if you do, the second clause is activated—the one containing proof of your embezzlement from your wife’s company while she was dying. The lawyers have every transaction. If you fight, you go to prison. If you accept… you stay—but under my rules.”
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.
The security guards—men who had always answered to Richard—exchanged looks. Finally, the head of security cleared his throat and stepped toward me.
“Ms. Carter,” he said respectfully, “would you like us to escort Mr. Cole off the property?”
That was the final blow.
Richard looked at his guards, then at me, and understood—it was over.
“No need, Robert,” I said calmly. “For today, let him process this in the guest quarters. The master bedroom—Mrs. Cole’s room—will be sealed starting now.”
I approached Richard, still slumped on the floor, and crouched down to his level.