A pause.

“Don’t let them leave.”

Bianca stepped back instinctively, as if suddenly remembering how fragile lies are.

She recovered quickly. “This is absurd,” she snapped. “You’re calling a lawyer because you can’t accept change?”

Lucien’s voice came through clearly. “Ma’am, please place the documents down and step away.”

The notary shifted nervously. Nathan finally looked up, caught between us.

“You can’t order me around,” Bianca said. “I’m family now.”

“Family doesn’t forge signatures,” Lucien replied.

The word forge landed hard.

Nathan froze. “Bianca… what does she mean?”

“I did what you couldn’t,” Bianca said coldly. “Your mother controls everything. I freed us.”

Lucien continued, explaining that the house was owned by the Hartwell Family Trust. I was the lifetime beneficiary. The trustee—him—not Nathan. No sale was possible without his approval.

Bianca tried to laugh it off, but the notary began to unravel. When asked if he’d seen me sign, he admitted he’d only witnessed a signature presented to him.

That was enough.

Lucien arranged for law enforcement. I confirmed we had full security footage—audio, video, time-stamped, cloud-backed.