Page 98 of Wicked Heiress

Three months later, my grandfather’s attorney called me. So I drove with Cole to The Hamptons, where we stayed at Cole’s house on the beach. It was a short drive to my grandfather’s house in Sagaponack.

All of my grandfather’s heirs gathered in the ballroom at his house. At least a dozen people sat on elaborate wooden chairs facing the room’s front. A man, who I assumed was Mr. Bollinger, my grandfather’s attorney, stood in front of a podium.

On Cole’s arm, I entered the room a few minutes late. My cousin Bastian was already here. Alex sat between Damian and Bastian, with their newborn daughter on her lap. Sofia was beautiful and had black hair and big blue eyes. I knew without asking she was Damian’s little girl.

Bastian turned around as I found my seat a few rows behind him. I waved, a gesture my cousin returned before Mr. Bollinger tapped the microphone with his finger.

“Thank you all for coming,” Mr. Bollinger said. “Before I read the will, Fitzgerald wanted me to give each of his heirs a letter. But he requested you wait to open it until I call your name.”

He lifted a stack of envelopes from the podium and handed them out, calling names until everyone had an envelope—a note from my grandfather. The envelope felt like a lead weight in my hand.

We rarely spent time together when he was alive. I couldn’t imagine he had much to say. But I followed my grandfather’s wishes and waited for his lawyer to read the will. He rambled names of men I didn’t know who had inherited shares in my grandfather’s companies.

Cole clutched my trembling hand on his knee and gave it a good squeeze. As I waited for him to call my name, my stomach twisted in knots.

Mr. Bollinger cleared his throat, eyes wide as he glanced down at the paper. His cheeks flushed with heat. “To Carl Wellington, I leave my late wife’s vibrator so you can go fuck yourself.”

It was nearly impossible not to laugh, but I somehow managed.

Cole covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his laughter, shaking his head. “Fucking Fitzy,” he whispered. “That old bastard.”

Most of the people in the room gasped. In a room full of classy people, no one dared to laugh at my grandfather’s final fuck you to Carl Wellington.

Next, Arlo Salvatore inherited shares in Atlantic Airlines, the company Bastian and Damian owned. I wasn’t sure how much the shares were worth, and Arlo’s face gave nothing away.

“To Damian Salvatore, I leave you the contents of my basement,” Mr. Bollinger said with a curious expression.

Damian ripped open his letter, his pale cheeks flushed with heat, and then handed the note to Bastian. I knew what was in the basement and cringed. Shackles he used to chain us to the wall. The cage he put me inside when he didn’t feel like wasting his time fastening my ankles to the cold floor.

“To my grandson, Bastian Salvatore,” Mr. Bollinger continued, “I leave my home in Sagaponack and its contents.”

Bastian scowled at his letter. After Carl got a vibrator and Bastian and Damian looked enraged, I wondered what was inside my envelope.

“To my granddaughter, Grace Hale,” Mr. Bollinger announced, and my heart sped abnormally. “I leave the rest of my estate.”

I raised my hand. “Excuse me?”

Bastian turned in his chair and glanced over his shoulder at me. And then I realized everyone was staring at me. With so many gazes on me, my skin heated under their careful inspection.

I was the worst dressed in the room. Where everyone wore suits and dresses, I opted for a pair of spandex shorts, a tank top, and sandals. We’d come from the beach, and I didn’t think this would be formal.

Besides, I was pregnant, and my clothes no longer fit well. Cole must have knocked me up the first time we didn’t use a condom or right afterward because I was almost four months along.

“Yes?” Mr. Bollinger said.

“Exactly how much money is the rest of his estate?” I asked, my voice shaking from all the nerves coursing through my body.

Mr. Bollinger looked down at the podium and flipped through papers. “Including Mr. Adams’ real estate, cars, jewelry, stock, bank accounts, and miscellaneous possessions.” He looked up at me. “Approximately two hundred and fifty-seven billion dollars.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “That’s too much money. I don’t want it.”

“Grace.” Bastian raised his hand to gain my attention. “You deserve it. Take the money.”

Meeting Bastian’s gaze, I nodded.

My cousin turned around and dipped his head down to kiss the baby’s head. Alex smiled and rubbed her thumb across his cheek. They looked so in love. And when she looked at each of his brothers, I could see how much she loved them.

Cole hooked his arm around me and whispered, “You deserve this money, Grace. It’s your birthright as an Adams.”

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