The sharp crack of the broken wax seal sounded like the toll of a death knell hanging over the entire terrace.
Lucas reached inside the heavy ivory envelope and pulled out several pages of crisp, official legal paper along with a sleek black USB drive.
At the very top of the first page, the official embossed letterhead of the International Notary Public and Federal Judicial Council gleamed with indisputable authority.
Directly beneath it was the bold, unmistakable handwriting of Arthur Sterling, written in firm black ink that carried the weight of a man who knew his time was running out.
Victoria collapsed onto the wet ground, burying her face in her hands, trembling uncontrollably as if the ground beneath her had opened up.
Lucas began reading the introductory paragraphs silently, his dark eyes scanning the text as his jaw tightened until the veins on his neck bulged.
Every single line was an explosive revelation that dismantled the last two years of calculated lies, deceit, and psychological torture.
Clara stepped forward, placing a hesitant hand on Lucas’s wet arm, her voice barely a whisper filled with anxiety.
“Lucas… what is it? What did our father write before he passed away?”
Lucas looked down at his sister, his expression softening with immense sorrow and vindication before hardening into pure resolve.
He raised his head, turning his commanding gaze directly toward the crowd of over one hundred influential figures from the city’s business and political elite.
“Two years ago, this entire city was told that my father died of a sudden, tragic cardiac arrest,” Lucas began, his deep voice carrying effortlessly across the vast estate.
“We were told that he had signed over all power of attorney to his second wife, Victoria, only forty-eight hours before his heart mysteriously failed.”
A chilling hush fell over the audience as several prominent judges and corporate executives in the crowd leaned in closer to listen.
“I was branded as an unruly, rebellious son who was completely cut out of his estate and banished without a single penny to my name.”
Lucas pointed a stern, accusatory finger at Victoria, who was now weeping into the stained silk of her ruined dress.
“And my sweet, innocent sister Clara was kept in this mansion like an unpaid servant, manipulated into believing that our father abandoned us before his death!”
Lucas held the official document high in the air for every phone camera and witness to clearly see.
“This document is not a request, nor is it an outdated memory; this is the Last Will, Testament, and Forensic Affidavit of Arthur Sterling, dated the exact evening of his untimely murder!”
Gasps of horror rippled violently through the crowd of guests, many people instinctively taking a step back away from Victoria.
“M-Murder?” Clara whispered, her hands flying to her mouth as fresh tears spilled over her cheeks.
Victoria lifted her head, her eyes bloodshot with sheer panic, screeching with the last remnants of her fading authority.
“HE’S LYING! HE IS FORGING THOSE PAPERS! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE AND ARREST THIS TRESPASSER!”
Lucas looked at her with utter disgust and sneered coldly.
“You want the police called, Victoria? Be very careful what you wish for, because every single officer in this state is about to learn what you put in my father’s nightly tea.”
