Page 43 of Single Mom's Christmas Wish

“Sally forbade me from ever contacting you, Dakota. I respected her wishes. Frankly, I didn’t see the point. You were never truly a Monroe, despite what your birth certificate says. I remained focused on Callie, her needs, and her education. Yet when I was informed of Sally’s passing, I knew I had to come see you.”

“To what, humiliate me at my grandma’s funeral?” I scoff. Callie gives me a hard look, but I have zero patience left for her tantrums. “Don’t even say a word,” I hiss at her.

“I didn’t handle it as well as I should have,” Mr. Rawlings reads. “As soon as I saw you, I became enraged. I had planned a different approach, but my anger got the better of me. The way you dressed, the way you spoke, the way you behaved. It screamed of Sally, not of my son. Callie came with me, not because she wanted to offer her condolences, I’m afraid. She simply wanted to see the other daughter. The one for whom she got left behind. We were both in a terrible state of mind, and we said terrible things to you, Dakota. True things, I’m afraid, but the way in which they were conveyed left plenty to be desired.”

“I guess this is as close to an apology as I’ll ever get,” I mutter.

“What, eighty million dollars doesn’t say sorry well enough?” Callie shoots back.

“I don’t care about the money. I didn’t even know you existed! You’re the ones who came after me, although I never did anything to hurt you.”

“Ladies, it’s almost over. Bear with me, please,” Mr. Rawlings pleads.

“My dear Dakota, I wasn’t there for you while you were growing up. My dearest Callie, I was by your side, perhaps a little too much. In both instances, particularly after Sally’s passing, I decided to keep a closer eye on you two. I needed to understand who would best carry my name and my legacy forward, which brings us to why you’re here today. I do not wish to start a war between the two of you, but you both need to prove yourselves as Monroe women if you wish to inherit my fortune. May your livesbe as beautiful as you can make them. Best, Katherine.”

Mr. Rawlings exhales deeply, then goes back to the last page of the will. “Terms and conditions are as follows…”

“Fucking finally,” Callie grumbles, crossing her arms.

“Callie will inherit the Ascot Mansion and all contents listed within. Furniture, art, every single item in the house is her property, effective immediately, accompanied by a security fund that will provide her with a monthly allowance of five thousand dollars.”

“Five grand? What the hell am I going to do with peanuts?” Callie exclaims, but Mr. Rawlings gracefully ignores her and keeps reading.

My skin crawls as an ominous sensation creeps its way up my spine. Eighty million bucks suddenly sounds too good to be true.

“It is all I am willing to give to someone who grew up with everything while Dakota was raised well beneath the Monroe standards,” Mr. Rawlings says, reading Katherine’s words. “However, eighty million dollars does not come without a price.”

“And there it is,” I mutter, then hold my breath, preparing myself for what comes next.

Dakota will only come in possession of these funds if she is legally married before December25th of this year. I have become aware of her movements and failures over the years. I know about her daughter and her divorce.

“While I do not agree with ending a marriage at all, the fact that the husband left puts Dakota in a more favorable position than it did her father, which is why I am willing to give her this chance. Her daughter needs a father. This family needs a manto help her carry the Monroe torch, if only with his presence in society. Therefore, it must be done in this specific manner. Should Dakota fail to present Mr. Rawlings with a valid marriage certificate before midnight on December 25th, the inheritance will revert directly into Callie’s possession, irrevocably.”

As I begin to realize the complexity of the mission that Katherine left me with, I feel like a ragdoll left out in a storm, thrown hither and yon, cast away by the wind, and pulled into the sea. Hope and dread mingle in the back of my throat as I try to wrap my head around everything.

I’m about to come into a ton of money.

But only if I’m married by Christmas.

What the actual fuck?

14

Dakota

Chelsea groans and rubs her face, utterly confused and downright annoyed.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I say. “The woman is dead, yet she’s still playing cruel and stupid games from beyond the grave.”

“I’m the only one getting played here,” Callie hisses.

Mr. Rawlings sits up and waves his hands at us. “Ladies, if I may have your attention, please. The facts are simple. Katherine enunciated them clearly, and I believe her motives have been accurately listed as well.”

“Yeah, she wants to preserve the almighty Monroe name,” I say.

“It’s more than that,” he replies. “The Monroe dynasty is a precious pillar of this state’s community. The backbone of its elite. For over three centuries, the Monroes have been a part of the country’s upper echelon. Bankers, prosecutors, senators, and representatives, honorable people who have served the United States and its people. Corporations and conglomerates carry the Monroe name across oceans and continents withoffices all over the world. Katherine withdrew from all of that a long time ago, monitoring everything and everyone from her study in the Astoria Mansion.”

“Okay, so what does any of that have to do with me?” I ask.

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