Trevor's tone shifted, still warm, but grounded now. "But my grandma on the other side… she ran the estate for forty years before anyone realized my uncles were useless."
Lucas arched a brow. "Efficient and brutal. I like her already."
"She doesn't trust elevators, has very loud opinions about cufflinks, and can recite estate law in her sleep," Trevor went on, tone affectionate but laced with awe. "She once made a minister cry at a luncheon for misquoting an inheritance clause. And she plays cards with war criminals for fun."
Lucas narrowed his eyes, intrigued. "Please tell me that last part isn't a metaphor."
Trevor leaned in slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting. "It isn't. Last year, she beat a retired general at poker and took his villa. Said it was compensation for wasting her afternoon."
Lucas blinked. "That woman sounds like a menace."
