“I'm not leaving until you talk to me."
Sarah stood outside Raymond's office, her heels echoing against the corridor tiles. Her fingers trembled around the letter she'd found that morning—legal phrasing that danced around one fact: she'd been removed from the family trust.
“I said," she snapped, pounding the door, “open the damn door!"
The handle turned.
Raymond appeared, perfectly composed, suit crisp, expression unreadable. “It's not a good time."
“You froze my accounts."
“It was Father's decision."
“You whispered in his ear," she hissed. “Don't deny it."
He stepped aside. “Come in."
She did.
Behind the heavy door, the office was cold, clean, impersonal. No photos. No family. Only contracts and silence.
“I built my position," she said, voice shaking. “I worked. I showed up. Yo
