Mark closed the folder. “Funds will transfer within forty-eight hours. My advice? Get your accounts secured today. New bank, separate from anything joint, and for God’s sake, lock down your passwords.”
I smirked. “Already ahead of you.”
Before we could get deeper into logistics, the door swung open. Natalie stepped in like she owned the place, this time without Madison.
“Oh, perfect,” she said, spotting Mark. “I was hoping to have a word about the estate.”
Mark didn’t even turn toward her. “You’re not listed on any of these documents. There’s nothing for you to be involved in.”
Her smile went thin. “Colleen, don’t you think that’s a bit cold? We’re family.”
“We could—”
“We could nothing,” I cut in. “You’ve made it clear we’re not on the same team. You’ve been circling this thing like a vulture since the second you heard the amount. I’m done pretending you’re here for my well-being.”
She straightened her shoulders, that fake calm slipping just enough to show the crack.
“You’re making enemies you don’t need to make.”
“I’m identifying them,” I said.
Mark slid the signed folder back into his case like he was locking away classified intel. “This conversation is over.”
Natalie left without another word, but I caught the flash of something in her eyes. Calculation. She wasn’t retreating. She was regrouping.
Once she was gone, Mark sat back down. “You realize she’s going to try to get at you through other means, right? People, influence, public perception. Hell, she might even dig into your service record if she thinks it’ll help.”
I’d already considered that. “Let her try. She won’t find anything she can weaponize. And if she does, I’ve got a few things in reserve.”
Mark didn’t press, but his expression said he knew I meant it.
By early afternoon, I was discharged with a stack of papers, a bag of prescriptions, and Denise’s parting words.
“Don’t let her near your front door.”
Boyd drove me home. The city was cold but clear, sunlight bouncing off the glass buildings and turning the Ashley River into a sheet of silver.
My townhouse looked exactly the same from the outside, but stepping in felt different now, like the walls knew what had just shifted.
I dropped my bag in the hall and went straight to my home office. New passwords, new accounts, new encryption on my devices. I even called a contact from my old unit who owed me a favor. He set up a secure server for sensitive files before the day was out.
Natalie wasn’t going to get within a mile of my finances.
The first test came faster than I thought. Around six, the phone rang. Unknown number. Against my better judgment, I picked up.
“Colleen, it’s Mom.”
Her voice was warm, but a little too sweet, like she was rehearsing friendliness.
“Natalie told me you’ve been through a lot. She’s worried about you.”
I could practically hear Natalie in the background feeding her lines.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“She said something about you making rash decisions with the inheritance. Maybe you should let her help—”
I cut her off. “We’re not having this conversation. My finances aren’t a family project.”
There was a pause, the kind where someone’s debating whether to keep pushing or hang up. She chose to push.
“You’ve always been so independent. But this is a lot of money, Colleen. It could change all of our lives.”
“It’s going to change mine,” I said flatly. “Good night, Mom.”
I hung up before she could respond.
Boyd, sitting at the kitchen counter, raised an eyebrow. “Family conference call?”
“Family ambush,” I corrected.
We ordered takeout, ate in relative silence, and by the time I went upstairs to my bedroom, I’d already decided on my next move.
The money wasn’t just security. It was leverage. And I was going to use it, not hide from it.
I started by pulling out a yellow legal pad and making two columns: defensive and offensive.
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