Page 61 of The Alpha's Cursed Queen

I take off my glasses, letting them dangle from my finger as I look at Charlie’s lawyer. “What are you expecting the Bernardis to live on when your client has already taken their retirement fund?”

Charlie shrugs. “They can work for me if they need the money.”

I blink slowly. “So, they will go from being the owners of a successful restaurant to being your employees? In what world does that make sense?”

Mason is about to speak, but Charlie shushes his lawyer. He stands up and leans forward, his eyes glittering. “Listen. Why don’t you keep your yap shut and get walking? We don’t need your help. This is a family matter. There’s nothing a skirt like you can do, anyway.”

I study the man across from me in his white T-shirt with a ketchup stain on it and his black pants that are hanging so low that I can tell you the brand name of his underwear. His hair is slicked back with so much grease that it’s shining brighter than the sun. There’s a piece tucked away in the waistband of his pants, which he has been showing me constantly since our meeting started.

He’s a couple years younger than me, and greed is written all over his face.

“A skirt like me, Mr. Robert, can do a lot of damage. Why don’t you sit down and let your lawyer do the talking? Your in-laws don’t want to give you their restaurant, especially considering the amount you’re trying to offer them for it. Your father-in-law does not wish to retire. And if he doesn’t want to, you can’t make him. Sending men to break things in here is not the way to go about it. And after the kind of behavior you and your wife have demonstrated, you can forget about an inheritance.”

“I’ll sue him, you bitch!” All riled up now, Charlie actually spits in my face.

A few things happen at once. Mr. Bernardi turns red, and Mrs. Bernardi lets out a shocked cry. Mason curses out loud, grabs Charlie, and forces him to sit down.

I reach out and pick up one of the paper napkins from the table. I wet it with some water from my glass before cleaning my face with it. I take my sweet time, strategizing as I do so.

“You can’t treat her like that!” Mr. Bernardi is raising his voice, and Charlie pushes back his seat and starts advancing around the table.

“Hold your fucking tongue, old man! There’s a lot I can do to you, too. If you don’t want anything happening to that old bird of yours, sign over the fucking restaurant.”

“Get your client under control, Mr. Robert,” I say mildly, “before I charge him with assault. With the misdemeanors already on his rap sheet, he’s going to go away for a couple of years, at least. Then his wife and kids will have no choice but to move in withhis in-laws. And they’ll be seeing their grandchildren as much as they want.”

“You little bitch.” Charlie lunges at me, and I let him get his hands around my throat.

Bored with this, I let him strangle me for a minute before grabbing him by the hair on the back of his head. Using my shifter strength, I yank him away from me and slam his head onto the table. Dazed, he totters backward before falling into his chair.

“So that will be one count of assault and one attempted murder charge.” I straighten my shirt before looking at the pale-faced attorney. “I wonder how many years he’ll do for that?”

Charlie looks confused. I didn’t hit him hard enough on the table to leave a mark, but it was enough to rattle him.

I slide a piece of paper over to Mason. “This is what is going to happen. The Bernardis will change their estate plan such that after their passing, the restaurant will be sold and the proceeds given to charity. They no longer want their daughter to inherit anything. If they change their minds, they will leave their money in a trust for their grandchildren, to be accessed only for their education. With respect to the grandchildren, who are their biggest concern, they will be filing for grandparent rights. Considering that they raised both their grandchildren when they were born, and the boys have spent months with them on several occasions, I am confident they will be granted visitation privileges. Don’t tempt me to go for custody because no judge will turn me down when they find out that the children’s parents emptied the trust funds the grandparents set up for them, and that they did so using illegal means. As a bonus for your client,I will be charging him with assault and attempted murder, and that’s just because I don’t like him.”

Mason closes his eyes briefly, the vein in his forehead pulsing.

“Yo.” Charlie manages to get himself together enough to scowl. “She’s shitting us, isn’t she?”

His lawyer slams the paper down on the table and growls, “No, she’s not, Charlie. And if you don’t want to go to jail, you’d better shut up.”

Normally lawyers don’t talk to their clients in this manner, but then, Mason is also Charlie’s brother.

“I need to confer with my client,” Mason finally replies to me through gritted teeth.

I gesture toward the empty restaurant. “By all means.”

An hour later, Mrs. Bernardi is sobbing into her hands as her husband tries to comfort her.

“He can’t stop you from seeing your grandchildren, Susan,” I tell her. “I warned you to expect this outcome. At least now, he can’t touch your assets or this restaurant. I’ve already prepared the paperwork to file for custody of your grandchildren. The investigator I have looking into your daughter and your son-in-law has given me a lot of information that we can use against them.”

Susan leans against her husband. “I don’t want to break up my daughter’s marriage.”

“I understand that,” I comfort her. “But you should think about the children. They deserve a stable home. Emotional abuse isjust as bad as physical abuse. Those children are being used as pawns to bleed you and your husband dry.”

I kneel by her side and look up at her. “I know you love your daughter, but sometimes blood isn’t thicker than water. She has chosen this lifestyle. Ellie knows what she’s doing. She has chosen to betray you and your husband. You’ve already heard what she and Charlie intended to do. You two worked hard to build this place. Forcing you to give up your restaurant, to give up your house, so that they can move in and control everything while you and George work for them for minimum wage isn’t fair. It’s not right. It’s not something any child should put their parents through. You know that, and I know that. You are not hurting her. You are trying to protect yourself.”

Her eyes are red as I squeeze her hands, my voice gentle. “You have nothing left, Susan. She blackmailed you out of your savings account, the trusts for the boys, your retirement funds. If you give in, what will happen to you and George? She will work him to the bone. She doesn’t love you. Not the way she should. I don’t feel good saying any of this, but you have to be practical. There are two little boys who need you. Do this for them.”

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