My father d:ie:d, and before his funeral was even over, my husband took control of 60% of my father's $3 billion company and threw me out of the house, saying, "Without your father, you're nobody." I didn't argue. I called the family lawyer and opened the sealed envelope my father had left behind... then I heard a voice that couldn't possibly still be alive.

While Detective Cruz dispatched officers to intercept Marcus Kane at the airport, Gavin and Celina were making a last-ditch effort to save themselves from total financial ruin.

Unaware that their offshore accounts were being monitored by federal authorities, Celina had organized a black-tie luxury art auction at our family estate in Highland Hills—the very house they had thrown me out of four days prior.

They had invited dozens of wealthy foreign buyers, intending to illegally liquidate $20 million worth of my father’s private art collection, rare wine cellars, and antique jewelry before the courts could issue a formal asset freeze.

At 7:30 PM, I arrived at the gates of Highland Hills in a sleek black limousine, accompanied by Detective Cruz and six armed state troopers.

Inside the grand ballroom, classical music was playing, and waiters in tuxedos were serving champagne. Celina was standing near the grand marble fireplace, holding a microphone, presenting my late mother’s $2 million diamond necklace to a crowd of bidders.

“Starting bid for this breathtaking 18-karat diamond piece is $500,000!” Celina announced with a dazzling, fake smile.

“Item withdrawn,” I called out, my voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings as I walked into the ballroom.

The guests turned in shock. Gavin, who was standing by the bar sipping bourbon, nearly dropped his glass.

“Naomi!” Celina shrieked, clutching the necklace. “You have no right to enter this house! Security, get her out!”

The private security guards stepped forward, but Detective Cruz flashed his badge. “Phoenix Police! Everyone stay where you are!”

Gavin marched over, his face red with desperation. “This is a private residence, Detective! My wife signed this house over to me!”

“Correction, Gavin,” Arthur Vance announced, stepping into the room behind me. “The deed to Highland Hills Manor was placed into the Ross Albright Living Trust in 2018. Your signature on the transfer deed was rejected by the Maricopa County Land Registry two hours ago due to lack of authority.”

Celina’s jaw dropped. “What?!”

“You are currently trespassing on private property, Celina,” I said, stepping right up to her. “And as for that necklace you’re wearing?”

I reached out and yanked my late mother’s diamond necklace right off Celina’s neck, taking a piece of her red dress silk with it.

“That belongs to my family,” I said coldly.

Suddenly, Detective Cruz’s phone buzzed. He answered it, listened for ten seconds, and smiled grimly at me.

“Ms. Albright,” Cruz said smoothly. “Our officers just detained Marcus Kane at Sky Harbor Airport. He carried $100,000 in cash and a recorded voice memo from Celina Barrett explicitly ordering him to cut the hydraulic brake lines on your father’s Mustang.”

A deafening collective gasp rippled through the wealthy crowd.

Celina’s face turned completely white. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the polished marble floor.

“No! It’s a lie! I didn't do anything!” Celina screamed frantically.

Gavin took two steps backward, trying to slip out through the terrace doors, but two state troopers immediately stepped into his path, drawing their handcuffs.

“Gavin Barrett,” Detective Cruz announced loudly, pinning Gavin against the glass door and snapping the cold steel cuffs onto his wrists. “You and your mother are under arrest for conspiracy to commit first-degree murder, corporate fraud, grand larceny, and felony wire fraud.”

As the troopers dragged Gavin and Celina through the ballroom in front of all their wealthy peers, Gavin looked back at me with wild, terrified eyes.

“Naomi! Please!” Gavin begged, tears streaming down his face. “I loved you! I was confused! We can fix this!”