When I returned home, the atmosphere in the apartment was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Eleanor and Mike—Liam's mother and brother—sat on the living room sofa, watching me with a nauseating blend of fake sympathy and naked greed.


I wore a black dress randomly grabbed from my closet, my hair disheveled, my bare face pale as paper. I deliberately made myself look utterly destroyed by grief—a fragile widow barely able to stand.

"Ava, darling," Eleanor approached for an embrace, which I subtly avoided with the slightest shift of my body.

Her arms hung awkwardly before she quickly adopted an even more exaggerated expression of concern. "Oh, look at you—you're a wreck. We've been so worried."


I moved past her to the bar on unsteady legs, pouring myself water with hands that trembled just enough to make the glass clink against the marble.

"I'm fine." My voice rasped as if my vocal cords had been scraped with sandpaper.


Mike—that perpetually idle leech who'd lived off his brother's generosity—stood up with a forced expression of concern. "Sis, you can't go on like this. Liam wouldn't want to see you this way."

With my back to them, I sipped the ice water, letting the chill spread from my throat down to my stomach.

"I… I can't handle it." I turned slowly, staring at them with empty eyes. "I can't deal with anything. Bank calls, company papers, funeral bills… it all just makes my head spin and reminds me of Liam."

I pressed my hand to my forehead with perfect timing, swaying slightly as if I might collapse at any moment.

Eleanor pounced on the opportunity, rushing forward to steady me. Her eyes flickered with poorly concealed delight despite her sorrowful mask.

"Of course you can't handle this, dear," she cooed as if to a child. "You need rest. Leave everything to us—we're family. We'll take care of everything."

I leaned against her like she was my only support, whispering faintly: "Everything… you'll handle everything?"

"Everything." Eleanor answered decisively, exchanging a victorious glance with Mike across the room.

***

They moved faster than I'd anticipated.

Just an hour later, Mike brought in a slick-talking lawyer in an off-the-rack suit. They discussed drafting a "complete power of attorney" right in front of me as if I were merely a piece of furniture.

Eleanor shoved the document in front of me, tapping the signature line with her pen. "Ava, dear, just sign here and you can rest. We'll handle everything else."

I lifted dazed eyes to the document that existed solely to protect their interests, and nodded.

"Okay, but I… I can't right now. Tomorrow, after I've slept." I forced out the words with apparent effort.

They left without a hint of suspicion, practically giddy—no doubt off to celebrate their imminent windfall.

As they left, my phone vibrated once with a message from Mr. Davis.

"Miss Turner, everything is proceeding as planned. The court approved the emergency asset freeze fifteen minutes ago, citing 'suspected major financial fraud.' All joint accounts under your and Mr. Blackwood's names, plus all your personal assets, are now temporarily frozen. No one—including yourself—can access a penny without secondary court approval."

I gazed at New York's gray skyline and replied, "Thank you, Mr. Davis."

The calm before the storm is always brief.

***

The next afternoon, the apartment door crashed open.

Eleanor stormed in like an enraged lioness, followed by an equally furious Mike and their bargain-basement lawyer.

"Ava! What the hell have you done?!" Eleanor's shriek shattered the living room's silence. "Why are all the accounts frozen?! The bank called us fraudsters!"

I sat calmly on the sofa, sipping tea as if her intrusion was entirely expected. I didn't even bother looking up.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Eleanor," my voice remained steady and cool. "I've been here all day, haven't left once."

"Don't play innocent with me!" She trembled with rage, slamming a folder onto the coffee table. "You think this will help you keep the money? Liam anticipated you might try something like this!"

I finally raised my eyes to glance at the folder.

"What's this?"

"Liam's will!" Eleanor's chin lifted triumphantly, her face alight with malicious glee. "With his signature! It clearly states that after his death, this apartment legally passes to me—his mother!"

She yanked out the document and unfolded it before me. It certainly looked official, with a flourishing signature at the bottom that, at first glance, resembled Liam's handwriting.

The two security guards I'd called stood nearby, their faces showing uncertainty upon seeing the "will."

Eleanor noticed their hesitation and grew even smugger. "See! This house is mine now! Ava, I'm giving you one last chance—go unfreeze those accounts and return what belongs to the Blackwood family! Otherwise, I'll see you in court! You'll get nothing, and you'll be thrown out of my house!"

Mike jumped in: "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, sis! My brother's will is right here in black and white!"

They thought they had me cornered, that their forged will was their ace in the hole.

I stared silently at the ridiculous document and their ugly, gloating faces, then fell quiet.

The air in the living room seemed to freeze. Eleanor and Mike exchanged triumphant looks, mistaking my silence for fear and surrender.

***

After letting them enjoy their imagined victory for a full minute, I finally looked up.

I calmly removed another document from the folder beside me, placed it gently on the coffee table, and pushed it toward Eleanor.

"What's this?" Eleanor frowned disdainfully.

"The deed to this apartment," I smiled, a smile devoid of any warmth.

Eleanor's face transformed instantly. She snatched up the document, eyes fixed on the text.

I helpfully educated her and her equally shocked discount lawyer on basic property law. "Read carefully. It states in black and white that there's only one owner of this property—me. This was a gift from my father before my marriage, making it my premarital asset."

I paused, savoring the sight of color draining from her face, then continued in the gentlest voice delivering the cruelest words: "Eleanor, perhaps your lawyer missed explaining a fundamental legal principle—no one can bequeath property they don't own. Liam was never the owner of this apartment, so his 'will' isn't worth the paper it's printed on."

"No… impossible!" Eleanor's voice rose to a screech. "Liam lived here! This was his home!"

"He merely lived here," I corrected her. "Now, I should inform you that you, your son, and this gentleman are potentially guilty of fraud through forged legal documents. Under New York State law, that's a felony."

I picked up my phone, pretending to dial. "I imagine the police and FBI would be quite interested in your forgery techniques."

Eleanor's face turned ashen. Her lawyer broke into a cold sweat, backing away rapidly.

I nodded to the security guards, who now understood the situation perfectly. "Please escort these 'guests' out. They've trespassed into my private residence and attempted extortion."

The guards moved without hesitation, grabbing Eleanor and Mike firmly by the arms.

"You can't do this to me! I'm Liam's mother!" Eleanor thrashed wildly, screaming, "Let go of me! You bitch, Ava! You'll regret this!"

Mike's curses were equally vile.

I watched coldly as they were dragged toward the door like the trash they were.

Just before being dragged out, Eleanor managed to pull her phone from her pocket, furiously jabbing at the screen to send an urgent message to a hidden contact.

Meanwhile, on a pink-sand beach in the Bahamas, the sunshine was blindingly bright.

Liam lounged on a beach chair while Chloe, in a tiny bikini, held an iced cocktail to his lips.

His phone vibrated.

He picked it up casually, glanced at the screen, and his smile instantly froze. The message from "Annoying Mom" contained just one sentence:

"We've been kicked out! That bitch froze all the accounts! Do something NOW!"