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Chapter 28

Today was the day. The reading of my father’s will. Stefan held my hand the entire ride down to Springfield, while I leaned against him, staring out the window of the Town Car and occasionally resting my head on his shoulder.

My husband and I had hardly left our bed in the two days since he’d come home from prison. If it was up to me we would have stayed there forever, but we were expected that afternoon at an appointment with my father’s lawyer. He and Michelle had already rescheduled the reading due to all the pomp and circumstance of the funeral, and then the KZM raid immediately following, which had hit me pretty hard. There was no more postponing it. It was pretty much the one thing that could put a damper on my desire to seduce my husband.

During the drive, I was a huge ball of nerves. This would be my first time back at my father’s house since the day of the funeral, and I braced myself for an overwhelming rush of unresolved feelings. Of grief.

But when I saw the house, and Michelle standing in front of it, all I felt was relief at seeing her. She looked better than she had in years. She was still the same Michelle, of course—classy, polished, the very picture of composure—but something about her seemed softer. More at ease. Stepping into the house, I could sense the change inside as well. There were no staff members running to and fro in their uniforms, the huge vases of formal white flowers had been switched out for bouquets bursting with color, and I caught a whiff of lavender and vanilla.

The house projected an air of welcome and warmth. For the first time, it felt like hers.

My father’s lawyer met us in the library, and I couldn’t help noticing that Michelle had taken the dark, heavy curtains down—allowing bright light to pour into the room. She also had a diffuser going in the corner: the source of the lavender smell. The usual thick scent of cigars no longer lingered, and I noticed the windows had been cracked open as well.

“I love what you’ve done in here,” I told her. “It feels nicer. Less like a cave.”

“Thank you,” she said, smoothing back her hair, which was down for a change.

I would bet my father had rejected all her decorating suggestions when he was alive, given how obsessed with appearances he’d always been.

We settled onto the sofa while the lawyer pulled my father’s will out of his briefcase and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“The document is fairly straightforward,” he said, looking up at all of us. “Mrs. Lindsey, Mitch left you the deed to this house, along with some funds—” here he passed a sheet of paper over to Michelle, “—specifically set aside for your sole use, at your discretion.”

I wasn’t sure what was on the page Michelle was looking at, but she’d let out a little gasp. I couldn’t imagine she’d been left anything less than a high seven figure number. My father had always given her a generous allowance and I was sure he’d made certain that she would be taken care of for the rest of her life.

“It’s…too much,” she choked out, her voice raspy with emotion.

“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I’ll help you spend it.”

She let out a tiny laugh at my joke and I gave her hand a squeeze. I knew the money couldn’t come close to making up for all the lies and infidelity my father had put her through during their marriage, but at least now Michelle could live on her own terms. Maybe she could even sell the house and start over. Or do some of the traveling she’d always dreamed of.

There were tears in her eyes, but she managed to hold it together, giving the lawyer a firm nod before handing the page back to him.

He turned to me next, and Stefan tightened his grip around my shoulder.

“Victoria Lindsey,” he began.

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Everything else is willed to you. Cash, stocks and bonds, as well as personal property, vehicles, and some real estate, including the apartment in Chicago and some acreage in Florida.”

“Are—are you sure?” I sputtered. “There are no…amendments?”

“No amendments. It’s all yours,” the lawyer affirmed.

I was genuinely shocked. After I had married Stefan, I half-expected my dad to either completely write me out of his will, assuming my husband would take care of me, or do something archaic like add stipulations to the inheritance, or leave it all to my husband.

“Wow,” I breathed, and this time, it was Michelle who squeezed my hand.

“Your father loved you,” she said. “I know you two hit a rough patch a few months back, but he loved you just the same. This is what he wanted.”

So he hadn’t been holding a grudge when he passed. He could have easily changed his will at any time—hell, I knew he kept his lawyer on speed-dial—but he’d chosen not to. I felt a huge weight lift off my chest, and I leaned into Stefan with tears stinging my eyes.

“This is an itemized list of each and every asset,” the lawyer said, passing over another sheet of paper. “At the bottom you’ll see the total cash value, should you choose to liquidate.”

My eyes widened as I scanned it. I was suddenly battling a host of conflicting emotions.

If he had died at any other time, this inheritance could have been used for absolutely anything I wanted, including my education. Even a divorce, if Stefan and I hadn’t fallen for each other. It went a long way toward helping the bitter taste I was left with in my feelings toward my father. He’d been controlling, and he’d made some bad choices, but he had loved me.