Chapter 9 - THE TRUE HEIR
Two hours later, the state police arrived at the glass tower.
Madeline was led out through the lobby in handcuffs, her tailored gray suit creased, her gold earrings reflecting the cold light of the police cruiser’s strobes. She was charged with document forgery, grand theft from the estate trust, and custodial fraud.
Charles Vance remained in the boardroom with Brandon and me.
“Brandon,” the old man said, his hand resting gently on Brandon’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to say. Thomas... your father... he loved you more than anything in the world. He didn't know. I swear to you, he had no idea about the fraud. To him, you were his boy. You were the only thing he cared about.”
“I know, Uncle Charles,” Brandon said, his voice quiet but steady. “He was my dad. That’s the only thing that matters to me.”
“Under the terms of the original trust,” Charles said, looking down at the blue folder, “if there is no biological heir of Thomas Vance... the estate goes to the closest living relative. But Thomas’s will was written differently. His personal will—the one that governs the family home and his private holdings—says that everything goes to his son, Brandon. No matter what.”
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He smiled—a warm, genuine expression that we had never seen from anyone in the Vance family before.
“You’re still his son, Brandon. In every way that counts.”
