“Mr. Greensboro?”
“Yes, Ms. Wyntor?”
“I know you can’t stop rumors. But if there are any videos or audio about what happened here today, we will sue and do so with a new firm.”
“Relax, Odette. Charles is—”
“Mom, you’ve done enough!” I held my hand out to stop her. Luckily, she didn’t say anything back.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Wyntor. I had all cell phones confiscated on this level for the duration of this meeting, and should anyone try anything, we will personally deal with it harshly,” he reassured me.
I checked the doors to see no one standing or even daring to look inside. Nodding, I sat down at the head of the table beside my mother. “Okay, so what happened in the few minutes I was gone? What led to their fight?”
“She was—”
“Mom, say one more thing, and I will give it all up!” I threatened, and Mr. Greensboro’s face paled worse than hers. I offered a smile. “Well, sir?”
“They brought proof of your father’s conditions to the inheritance. It’s iron tight. I’m guessing it’s a second draft he created before his untimely death. But it is newer than the will we were aware of.”
“Are you sure it is real?”
“Yes. Everything is the same, but with conditions, and it has the same signature, which we verified, as well as his personal assistant’s.”
I took a breath. “Okay, so what are these conditions?”
“Marriage.”
“Say what?”
“You need to be married and have a child.”
I felt something. Maybe it was the earth rattling under my feet. Maybe it was my soul leaving my body. But I definitely felt something. “Are you serious?” I couldn’t believe it.
“And this is why I told you to stop telling him you didn’t want to get married,” my mother grumbled. “He was always going on about continuing the Wyntor legacy. You thought I was being harsh, but he never said anything to you. Apparently, he was always planning on getting the last laugh.”
That was what it was.
That feeling I felt.
It was my father laughing at me from beyond the grave.
Chapter 3
“The assets totaling fifty-one point eight billion dollars will be divided equally between Odette Rochelle Wyntor and Augusta Pearl Wyntor, for a total of twenty-five point nine billion each. Of which, the first one-third of their inheritance will be received upon their marriages to a person of respectable integrity, morality, and standing, lasting more than one year. After the first three years of said marriage, they shall receive the second third of their inheritance. And the last third shall be given upon the birth of their first child—”
“No matter how many times you read it, Odette, it’s not going to change,” my mother called out from her bathroom.
I couldn’t believe it. The more I read it, the more I shook. “He can’t do this!” I hollered across her room, waving the paper above my head like a crazy woman. “It’s chauvinistic! It’s archaic! It’s wrong!”
“It’s his money, Odette. He can make the rules for whoever gets it,” she said, coming back out with a facial mask all over her.
“I know, but these are dumb rules. He should be the last person to advocate marriage. I mean...ugh. I’m so angry! How could he do this?” I lifted the paper back up to my face. “And what does ‘a person of respectable integrity, morality, and standing’ mean.”
“It means, don’t go marry a hobo off the street to get the money,” she clarified, moving to sit at her vanity.
“I get what it means! What I don’t get is who the hell is going to decide what a ‘person of respectable integrity, morality, and standing’ is?” And listen to this. Dad must have had a ball coming up with is part. ‘Should either daughter fail to marry, the assets totaling fifty-one point eight billion dollars will be divided. The first half shall be given to the Marvin Wyntor Global Foundation, and the second reinvested in Etheus.’ He’s threatening us!”
“You have to love your father. He said his money was either going back to him or going back to his company, which is also him.” Wilhelmina snickered before rubbing cream onto her neck.
“Exactly. No matter what, his money stays connected to everything he created. That is selfish and conceited! But no, he’s not done.” I smacked the paper bitterly. “Should only one daughter fail to marry and provide a child, the full sum and assets will pass on to the child of the other daughter under the same aforementioned conditions—so much for not pitting Augusta and me against each other!”
“At least he didn’t put a time frame on it,” she replied calmly, patting under her eyelids.
I paused, staring as she comfortably prepped and primed her face.
Her eyes shifted and met mine in the mirror when I was silent. “What?”
“Why am I the only one upset, pacing, and yelling?”
“Good question. Will you sit down and relax? Try this new golden banana and orchid facemask I just got—”
“Let me rephrase the question,” I cut in because she obviously didn’t understand where I was going or understood perfectly and was trying to distract me. “Why don’t you seem surprised, Mom?”
“I told you. Your father always spoke about wanting to continue his legacy. I’m surprised he didn’t insist you take his last name after marriage,” she replied and got up quickly, moving to leave the room.
Something is off.
“Yeah, but Yvonne just brought Dad’s new will today. You should at least be surprised.” She should be angrier than me, in fact.
“I was surprised, which is why Yvonne and I fought before you came back from your abnormally long bathroom break,” she said as we walked down the staircase.
“You always had fights, so that was normal for you, Mom. You didn’t say anything as Mr. Greensboro explained the will. You just kept texting. Who were you texting?”
“You know, it’s very rude for you to question your mother like this. You’re making me feel like some sort of criminal.” She huffed and rubbed her earlobe.
That was her tell! She always did that when she was up to something or knew she’d get in a little bit of trouble.
“Mom, what did you do!”
“Nothing! So stop accusing me,” she snapped before marching into the living room and taking her seat on her chaise lounge, which overlooked all of Seattle.
The view always took my breath away, but right now, it was the anxiousness that made my chest constrict. I thought back throughout the day, trying to see if there was anything she could have done if she’d left any clues—wait.
“Oh, don’t just stand there, Odette. I think the chef made us some yogurt for an evening snack. Why don’t we have that and—”
“This afternoon, you said, ‘The plan is to trust your mother.’ You weren’t expecting Yvonne to show today, but you knew about the new will, didn’t you?”
“Odette.”
“I know you, Mom—better than anyone—so, I know you won’t stop until I have that money. If you’re this calm, if you tell me to trust you, it’s because you have a plan.”