Sweetheart, why don’t you go refill the coffee? The adults are talking about the

I didn’t move toward the coffee. I set the portfolio down on the polished wood with a soft, deliberate click. Preston’s smirk twitched. ‘Nora, we don’t have time for—’ ‘Sit down, Preston.’ My voice didn’t shake. It hadn’t shaken in months. I’d practiced. Old Mr. Vale, our family attorney, cleared his throat from the far end of the table. He already knew. He’d helped me prepare. I slid a stapled document across to Preston. ‘This is a certified copy of Daniel’s private trust, filed the week before he died. He left his forty-one percent of Halston & Vale not to the family holding company, as everyone assumed. He left it to me. Personally. Irrevocably.’ Preston’s face drained. He flipped pages so fast the paper cracked. ‘This—this can’t be legal, he was sick, he wasn’t thinking—’ ‘He was thinking clearly enough to record a video with two witnesses and a notary,’ Mr. Vale said quietly. ‘I have the file queued if the board would like to view it.’ I turned to the other directors. ‘Combined with the eighteen percent I already own outright, and the twelve percent Aunt Miriam signed over to me last Tuesday when I showed her the emails Preston sent about pushing her into assisted living—that’s a controlling stake. Sixty-one percent.’ Someone at the table exhaled a low, stunned laugh. Preston stood up so fast his chair rolled backward and hit the window. ‘You planned this. You planned this while my brother was in the ground.’ ‘No, Preston.’ I finally picked up the coffee carafe. I walked the length of the table. I refilled Mr. Vale’s cup, then my own, then set it back down. ‘Daniel planned this. Because he knew exactly who you were the day you tried to have him declared incompetent from his hospital bed. I just waited until the adults were talking about the merger.’ I looked at the board. ‘The merger is off. Preston is off. Effective now. Security is waiting in the lobby to escort him to collect his personal items.’ He opened his mouth. Nothing came out. I finally smiled. ‘Sweetheart,’ I said softly, ‘why don’t you go refill your résumé?’