My brother punched me at Dad’s funeral because I refused to hand him the safe key. Blood covered my black dress while relatives dragged him away. “She’s stealing my inheritance!” he screamed. I opened the safe in front of everyone. Inside was no money—only documents proving he had emptied Dad’s accounts months earlier. - True Stories

By the time I walked through the heavy oak front doors, the grand foyer was already filled with murmuring relatives. The catered reception food sat completely untouched in the formal dining room. No one was here to mourn anymore; they were here for the spectacle. They were here for the money.

The crowd had naturally gravitated toward my father’s expansive, wood-paneled study at the back of the house. I pushed my way through the sea of black suits and dresses, ignoring the hushed whispers and pointing fingers.

When I entered the study, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Marcus was pacing aggressively back and forth behind my father’s massive mahogany desk, acting as though he had already moved in. He was whispering furiously to his wife, Vanessa, who stood near the grand stone fireplace.

Vanessa was wearing a black designer dress and a staggering amount of diamond jewelry that they absolutely could not afford on Marcus's failing "consulting" salary. She wore a smug, entitled smile that made my stomach turn.

"It’s about time you showed up, Elena," Marcus barked as I closed the study doors, trapping the immediate family inside the room. "Stop stalling and open the damn safe."

Uncle Raymond stood by the window, arms crossed defensively. "Let’s just get this over with, Elena. You’ve caused enough of a scene today."

I ignored Raymond and walked slowly toward the large, antique steel safe embedded in the wall behind the desk.

"He’s totally delusional," Marcus said loudly to the room, making sure everyone could hear his performance. "She manipulated a dying man. She probably forced him to sign some fake paperwork. But it doesn't matter. Dad told me personally, just last month, that this safe contains at least two million dollars in bundled cash, untraceable bearer bonds, and the unrecorded property deeds to the commercial lots."

Vanessa’s smile widened greedily, her eyes practically gleaming at the mention of the money.

Marcus believed every single word of it because Dad had intentionally let him believe it. It was the perfectly crafted bait, designed to keep Marcus close and overconfident until the very end.

"I didn't manipulate anyone, Marcus," I said, my voice calm and completely devoid of emotion.

"Then open it," he hissed, stepping so close to me that I could smell the sharp, pungent scent of expensive whiskey on his breath. "Open it, hand over what is rightfully mine, and then get the hell out of my house."