Edward's Point Of View
Sophia's lips had barely parted, but her words struck like a grenade thrown into a room full of gasoline.
"Morana."
It echoed again in my skull, bouncing between rage and revelation.
I stared at her... my daughter, with a cautious interest that began to eclipse the fury boiling in my veins.
"As it seems now," she began, adjusting the strap of her designer handbag on her shoulder, her tone smooth and clinical, "she has access to her grandfather's fortune."
I blinked. "The Sinclair fortune?"
She nodded slowly, her gaze razor-sharp. "Every cent. The estate. The holdings. The trust. It's all hers now. At least, on paper."
I leaned back slowly against the pillows, the wheels in my head grinding back into motion.
"You're sure?"
