Chapter 3 - The Trap set with InkThe following Tuesday evening, Arthur Pendelton, Lucas’s personal lawyer and long-time drinking buddy, arrived at the Pine Ridge estate. He was an imposing man with silver hair, an expensive signet ring, and an air of patronizing superiority.
"Margot, my dear! You look lovely," Arthur beamed, laying out a thick leather binder on the mahogany dining table. "Lucas tells me you’ve been busy with your books. Wonderful, wonderful. But tonight, we just have a little bit of boring adult paperwork to finalize."
Lucas stood by the fireplace, swirling a glass of aged scotch, watching Margot with the calm, calculating eyes of a predator watching a trapped rabbit.
"Just standard updates to the living trust, darling," Lucas added smoothly. "Making sure everything is streamlined so you don't have to deal with tax headaches in the future."
Margot sat down at the table. On the surface, she was the picture of timid obedience. She wore a soft pastel cardigan, offered them homemade tea, and kept her eyes downcast.
"Oh, you know how terrible I am with numbers and legal jargon, Arthur," Margot said softly, touching her throat. "Where do I sign?"
"Right here on page 14, my dear," Arthur said, flipping past dense blocks of text and pointing a gold pen at a blue sticky flag marked with a small pencil arrow. "And again on page 22 and 31."
Margot held the pen. Her heart pounded like a drum in her ears. Page 14 was the surrender of her intellectual property rights. Page 22 was the transfer of the Pine Ridge property title. Page 31 was the irrevocable power of attorney.
He really thinks I'm a fool, she thought.
Slowly, carefully, Margot brought the pen down to the paper. But instead of signing her legal signature, she executed a subtle, practiced variation that Evelyn Vance had taught her—a signature with an intentional, microscopic error in the loop of her 'M' and the tail of her 'g', rendering the document completely voidable under forensic handwriting standards, while appearing completely authentic to the naked eye.
Furthermore, hidden inside her cardigan pocket, her phone was recording every single second of the conversation.
"There," Margot said, looking up with a sweet, innocent smile as she signed the final document. "All done. Am I free to go back to my writing room now?"
Lucas came over, took the binder from Arthur, and flipped to the signed pages. A flash of pure, smug triumph crossed his face before he quickly masked it with his warm, fake smile.
"Yes, darling," Lucas said, kissing the top of her head. "Thank you. You've made things so much easier for us."
"You have no idea, Lucas," Margot replied softly, standing up. "You really have no idea."
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As she walked up the stairs to her room, she heard Lucas and Arthur clinking their glasses together in the dining room, laughing quietly.
Celebrate while you can, Lucas, she thought, shutting her bedroom door. Because the trap has officially sprung.
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