At 3 a.m., my stepmother and stepsisters stole my credit card and spent $100,000 on a luxury trip—returning home smug and unaware the card they used wasn’t what they thought it was.

at him.

“That’s not possible.”

Marcus didn’t blink.

“It is. And you signed the documents.”

Dad’s mouth opened. Closed.

I turned to him.

“What documents?”

He would not look at me.

Thomas took a few steps forward, his shoes clicking against the marble.

“Your mother knew, Natalie. Before she died, she knew exactly what kind of people would surround you when she continue reading …