CHAPTER 3
The heavy oak front door swung open, revealing Arthur Vance dressed in a sharp gray suit, holding a thick leather briefcase under his arm.
Standing right beside him were two Beaufort County Sheriff's deputies, their official badges gleaming under the bright afternoon sun illuminating the porch.
The thumping music instantly cut out as someone near the bar finally realized law enforcement was standing in the foyer of the three-million-dollar estate.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Brooks," Deputy Miller said politely, tipping his hat to me before turning his stern gaze toward the crowded living room. "Mr. Vance informed us that uninvited individuals have taken possession of your private residence without authorization."
Megan ran forward, her high heels clicking frantically against the hardwood floor as she waved her manicured hands in the air.
"This is a family misunderstanding!" Megan yelled, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and terror. "My husband is Robert Brooks! He is Eleanor's only son and the sole legal heir to this entire property!"
Arthur Vance stepped forward, unbuckling his briefcase with slow, deliberate precision that commanded the total silence of everyone in the room.
"Correction, Mrs. Brooks," Arthur stated, pulling out a thick, gold-stamped legal document and holding it up for the entire room to see. "As of three weeks ago, this property is held within the Eleanor Brooks Irrevocable Ocean Preservation and Charitable Housing Trust."
Robert stared at the document, his jaw dropping as the color completely drained from his cheeks until he looked like a ghost.
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"What... what are you talking about, Arthur?" Robert stammered, taking a shaky step toward his mother’s attorney. "My dad built this place for our family! I'm his son!"
"Your mother built this place, Robert," Arthur corrected coldly. "And under the new recorded terms, neither you nor your wife possess any legal claim, future inheritance rights, or entry privileges to this estate."
