Victoria kicks her stepchildren out at 18, claiming their dead father’s mansion… But the family lawyer arrives with the real will and murder evidence.
Victoria Patterson stood in the marble foyer, arms crossed, watching Emma and Ethan stuff their belongings into trash bags.
“One hour,” she snapped. “Your father’s been dead two years. This is MY house now.”
Emma’s hands shook as she folded her graduation dress. “Victoria, please. We have nowhere to go.”
“Should’ve thought of that before being such ungrateful brats.” Victoria’s voice echoed off the crystal chandelier. “I fed you, housed you, put up with your pathetic existence for ten years.”
Ethan looked up from his bag. “You made us sleep in the basement. You locked the kitchen.”
“Drama queen.” Victoria examined her manicured nails. “Your father left everything to me. Deal with it.”
The twins dragged their bags onto the front lawn. Neighbors peered over hedges, whispering. Victoria’s boyfriend Derek emerged from the house, carrying suitcases.
“Babe, maybe we should—” Derek started.
“Shut up.” Victoria slammed the door behind them.
A black Mercedes pulled into the circular driveway. A distinguished man in a gray suit stepped out, briefcase in hand.
“Mrs. Patterson?” He approached the front door. “I’m Robert Morrison, your late husband’s attorney.”
Victoria’s face went white. “Richard’s attorney died last year.”
“That was his business partner. I handled Richard’s personal affairs.” Morrison’s eyes were ice cold. “We need to discuss the will. The real will.”
“I have the will. Everything’s mine.”
Morrison opened his briefcase. “This is the actual will, filed with the state six months before Richard’s death. Emma and Ethan inherit everything. You get nothing.”
Victoria’s knees buckled. “That’s impossible. I have documents—”
“Forged documents. We have handwriting analysis.” Morrison gestured toward the street. “We also have these.”
Two police cars pulled up. Detectives stepped out, hands on their holsters.
“Victoria Patterson, you’re under arrest for first-degree murder and fraud,” Detective Walsh announced.
“Murder?” Emma gasped.
Morrison turned to the twins. “Your father suspected Victoria was poisoning him. He installed hidden cameras throughout the house. We have everything.”
Victoria lunged toward the door. Derek blocked her path, hands raised.
“Don’t even think about running,” Detective Walsh said, producing handcuffs.
“Richard died of a heart attack!” Victoria screamed.
“Arsenic poisoning mimics heart attacks,” Morrison explained calmly. “Toxicology reports don’t lie. Neither do the receipts we found for rat poison in your car.”
Derek backed away from Victoria. “I never knew about any murder. She just said we’d get the house when the kids turned eighteen.”
“Derek Morrison, you’re also under arrest.” Detective Walsh smiled grimly. “Conspiracy, fraud, and accessory to murder.”
“You notarized fake documents,” Morrison added. “That’s a federal crime.”
Emma and Ethan stood frozen on the lawn, watching their stepmother and her boyfriend get handcuffed.
“Your father loved you both deeply,” Morrison said gently. “He created a trust to protect you. The house is yours. So is the $12 million in investments and the life insurance.”
Victoria spat from the back of the police car. “You little bastards don’t deserve anything!”
“Actually, they deserve justice.” Morrison handed Emma a set of keys. “Your father left video messages for you both. He knew what Victoria was doing.”
The twins walked back into their house—their house—as Victoria was driven away.
In the living room, Morrison set up a laptop. Richard’s face appeared on screen, recorded months before his death.
“Emma, Ethan, if you’re seeing this, Victoria has shown her true colors. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you sooner. I was gathering evidence to keep you safe. This house is yours. The money is yours. Most importantly, you’re free from her forever. Make me proud.”
Emma wiped her tears. “Dad knew.”
“He planned everything,” Morrison confirmed. “Victoria spent two million of your inheritance on herself and Derek. She’ll pay every penny back, plus damages.”
“What happens now?” Ethan asked.
“Victoria faces life in prison. Derek gets fifteen years minimum. You two get your lives back.”
Six months later, Emma stood in the courthouse as Victoria received her sentence: twenty-five years to life.
“The defendant showed callous disregard for human life and the welfare of children,” Judge Martinez declared. “This court finds her guilty on all counts.”
Victoria’s own mother testified against her. “I’m ashamed to call her my daughter. Those children suffered enough.”
Outside the courthouse, Emma and Ethan spoke to reporters.
“Our father’s love protected us, even after death,” Emma said. “We’re starting a foundation for abused children in his name.”
“Evil doesn’t win,” Ethan added. “Justice does.”
They drove home to their mansion, their father’s photo now displayed prominently in the foyer where Victoria once stood. The house felt warm again, filled with love instead of cruelty.
Victoria would spend the rest of her life in prison, while Emma and Ethan built the future their father had dreamed for them.
