CHAPTER 3
The quiet rustle of silk interrupted the silence as Estelle Pierce walked into the study, holding a crystal glass of sparkling champagne in her gloved hand.
She wore a dark sapphire gown, her hair styled in a flawless updo, her face projecting the image of a grieving, elegant Beverly Hills matriarch.
"Christopher, darling," Estelle said, her voice smooth and devoid of any maternal warmth as she glanced at the wet footprints on her carpet. "You are tracking water across the rug, and you look utterly disheveled in front of our distinguished foundation guests."
Christopher slowly turned around, holding the forged power of attorney document in his right hand while holding Emma securely against his chest.
"You knew Juliette pushed her, Mother," Christopher said, his voice dropping into a low, deadly tone that made Estelle’s polite smile falter for a split second. "You planned the entire thing so Juliette would take the fall if anyone caught her, while you claimed the entire eighteen-million-dollar inheritance."
Estelle took a slow sip of champagne, stepping toward her mahogany desk without showing a single shred of remorse or panic.
"Don't be dramatic, Christopher," Estelle replied coldly, setting her glass down with a delicate, deliberate click. "That child is adopted; she carries not a single drop of Pierce blood in her veins, and I will not allow your father's legacy to be handed to a street orphan."
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"She is my daughter!" Christopher shouted, his voice echoing off the high ceilings as Emma flinched against his shoulder. "And Dad signed the legal adoption papers himself five years ago!"
"Your father was confused!" Estelle hissed, her polite facade cracking to reveal the icy predator beneath. "And by tomorrow morning, the probate court will officially declare his signature invalid due to medical incapacity!"
