Page 53 of Whiteout

“Yeah.” She got up and popped in a pod to brew, glancing back over her shoulder. “It would make it a helluva lot easier for us non-lawyer people if it was written in English.”

“This is English,” he said, not bothering to hold the snicker in this time. “Well, mostly.”

Breanna set down a mug on the coffee table in front of him, then opened the door for Hera. “You’ve got snow stuck to your paws. Poor baby, you must be freezing.”

“She’s a Husky, Breanna.”

“And?” She disappeared into her bedroom, returning with a towel.

While maybe he should’ve taken the opportunity to do a quick scan of the documents his cousin sent, he didn’t. Ignoring the screen on his lap, Ian watched her, almost spellbound, as Breanna sat on the floor wiping snow from the dog’s coat in front of the fire. Flames reflecting in her shining blue eyes, the sleeve of her oversized top slipped down her shoulder, giving him a perfect glimpse of the rose-tipped breast he once possessed.

I want back in, princess.

He swallowed, and peels of musical laughter rang out, making him blink. Licking her face, his dog rewarded Breanna for her efforts. With her arms wrapped tight around Hera’s neck, she hugged the pup, stroking her damp fur.

Ian cleared his throat.

Glancing over at him, she stood. “Give me a sec, will you? I’m coming.”

Oh, I’ll be making sure of that. He snorted to himself.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, taking a seat beside him with a cup of her own.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, okay.” With a roll of her eyes, Breanna took a sip. “Start explaining then, so I can sign the papers and be done with it.”

“This is a document petitioning the court for a Letter of Testamentary.”

“What’s that?” She leaned in a little closer to look at the screen.

“It gives you, as the Executor, the legal authority needed to handle all financial and formal duties necessary to close out your grandmother’s estate.”

“Say that again in English, please.”

“It’s a formality that allows you to access Valerie’s accounts, so you can pay off any debts and taxes. Distribute assets. Virtually everything,” he explained. “The petition gets filed with your grandmother’s Will and death certificate, along with documents verifying your identity. Once the court reviews everything, the letter will be issued and you can move forward.”

Breanna rubbed her lips together and nodded. “I think I understand.”

“Of course, anything held in Trust is exempt from all this. It’s already yours.”

“I’m a trust fund baby and I didn’t even know it.” Setting her cup down on the table, she sighed. “Derek told me my father had one set up for me.”

Valerie had done the same. Ian was almost sure of it. They shouldn’t be in this mess.

“This is an accounting of the estate assets as of the date of her death—Dalton House, the land, other properties, stocks, bank accounts—things like that. And debts, such as taxes. A listing of assets to be distributed under the terms of the Will…”

“What is Dalton Trust Development Opco LLC?” She pointed to the line in the document.

Christ, Derek. You’re more cunning than I gave you credit for. “That would be who.”

“Well, it says Dalton House, and the mountain it’s sitting on, it looks like, goes to them. You just said anything in Trust is exempt, so I’m confused.”

“Don’t let the name fool you,” Ian said, fingers gripping into her thigh. “That’s not a Trust. It’s a corporation—an operating company.”

“Who are they?”

“We’ll have to find out.” But then, he figured he already knew. A dummy corporation for Derek to hide behind, no doubt, named in such a way so Breanna wouldn’t question it. Hell, he’d probably try to convince her she was Dalton Trust Development.

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