Draven's Point Of View
"That's impossible! That's a fucking fake!" Arthur screamed, his voice shattering the heavy silence of the parlor as he pointed a trembling, furious finger straight at Mr. Vance. "It's forged! You're in on this with them, Vance! You signed off on a fake will!"
Mr. Vance didn't even blink. He adjusted his thin-rimmed glasses, his posture stiff and immaculate, the very picture of a man who had weathered far worse tantrums than this one. Decades of settling estates for the wealthy and the wicked had taught him how to stand perfectly still while a grown man unraveled in front of him. His hands, folded neatly atop the leather portfolio, didn't so much as tremble.
