Two police officers stood in the foyer of the Croft Estate, looking uncomfortable. William stood before them, his arm around a trembling Victoria.
“He is trespassing,” William stated firmly. “He has been legally dead for ten years. This property was transferred to me.”
Alistair descended the grand staircase, holding a leather folio. He didn’t look threatened; he looked amused.
“Actually, officers,” Alistair purred, handing a document to the sergeant. “The transfer of the deed required the signature of the living owner. Since I was merely… detained… the transfer is void.”
The sergeant read the paper and looked at William apologetically. “It appears the house is still in his name, Mr. Croft.”
Alistair smiled coldly. “I’m a generous father, William. I won’t evict you. You and your… wife… can take the guest quarters in the east wing. I will be reclaiming the Master Suite.”
William lunged forward, but Victoria held him back. Alistair walked past them, reclaiming his throne, forcing them to live under the same roof in a psychological prison designed to break their marriage apart.