Richard’s face went the color of dirty ash. “A codicil? I never approved a codicil.”
“Mrs. Vance was quite specific that it be filed privately,” Harrison said. “Shall I read it?”
Richard sank back into the chair. The air in the room shifted, charged with the sudden electricity of a trap snapping shut.
“Read it,” Richard whispered.
“Article 4A,” Harrison read. “Revocation of Personal Effects. The bequest of jewelry to Richard Vance is revoked. My collection, including the Dupont Star diamond and the family pearls, is bequeathed to my sister, Clara Dupont. Because she knows they are history, not currency.”
Savannah looked down at her canary diamond, suddenly self-conscious.
“Article 4B,” Harrison continued. “Real Property. The Park Avenue apartment and Hamptons estate remain with Mr. Vance for the time being. However, the Rosewood Cottage in upstate New York, and the surrounding 200 acres of forest, are bequeathed to Clara Dupont.”
“That shack?” Richard scoffed, his confidence returning slightly. “Fine. Keep it. It’s rotting wood and deer ticks.”
“It is also,” Harrison interjected smoothly, “the land that completely encircles the access road to the new Vance Luxury Golf Resort you broke ground on last month. Without those 200 acres, Mr. Vance, your resort has no road, no water mains, and no sewage access. Clara now owns the choke point.”
I gasped. I hadn’t known. Eleanor had preserved the land not just for sentiment, but as a blockade.
“She… she did that on purpose,” Richard stammered. “She knew I leveraged everything for that development.”
“Article 5,” Harrison pushed on, relentless. “$50 million in liquid assets is to be immediately transferred to The Haven, a shelter for victims of domestic financial abuse.”
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