Page 23 of Breakout
They shake hands, and we all sit.
“First, let me start by saying I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Anderson.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t know him.” My tone betrays my nerves.
Grandfather? I had a grandfather.
“I’m aware, but still. You lost a great man. One who did everything he could to care for you from afar. He wanted you taken care of in the event of his death. Let me get the right paper.”
Mr. Piper flips through the file in front of him before he finds what he is looking for.
“Here it is.” He clears his throat. “I, Matthias, with sound mind, leave my estate, including my home valued at six point five million dollars, Pickens bank account valued at thirty-three billion dollars, investment accounts valued at four million dollars and sixteen billion dollars respectively, and all physical items with no assigned value to my granddaughter, Peyton Marie Anderson. To my other granddaughter, Janis Messer, I leave my Sunrise Bank account valued at ten dollars. I appoint William Piper as my sole executor of my final will and testament. The stipulations of inheritance are listed below.”
He stops to look at me. I can feel my mouth open as the shock settles in. He left me his house, a bank account, investments, and physical items. He practically left me everything. On top of that, the amount is staggering.
“Why would he do that?” I whisper.
“He loved you, Ms. Anderson. He spoke of you often when he would visit. He updated his will every year. Your cousin, Janis, will be unhappy with the final will, but we will handle that accordingly. Mr. Anderson put money aside so that I could fight her contestation without causing you any financial burden.”
My hand flies to my chest as it pounds. “I don’t want issues. Can’t I just give it all to her?”
“Peyton, he wanted you to have it,” Beckett says in a low voice as he rubs my back.
“I don’t need his money, Beck. I’ve survived without him this long.” The anger starts to set in. “If he wanted to help me, he could have come and gotten me when I was in foster care. Yeah, no, I don’t want it, Mr. Piper.”
He gives me a sad smile. “Mr. Anderson left this letter for you to read. He said it would explain everything. Unfortunately, you are not his heir as of yet. There are the stipulations he outlined, so until those are met, I am the sole executor and will fight for his wishes.”
“Fine, what do I need to do to get it so I can give it away?” I cross my arms over my chest, leaning a little more into Beckett.
He looks back to the paperwork. “Prior to Peyton Anderson taking her inheritance, she must be married.”
I growl. “What kind of archaic bullshit is this?”
Mr. Piper looks at me apologetically. “I tried to advise him against it, but he wanted to be sure you would always have someone watching out for you after his death. He hoped the estate would be motivation for you to settle down.”
I shake my head. “You have got to be kidding me. I could go marry any Joe Schmo off of the street and collect it, then divorce the man. What is stopping me from doing that?”
The anger is bleeding into my tone, making me raise my voice. I hate how heated I feel, but this is fucking bullshit.
“Well, I am to be at the wedding. It is at my discretion to determine if the task has been met. He wants you to find a man who will protect you at all costs. I am to ensure that is done.” His eyes flicker to Beckett briefly.
I pull away from Beckett, leaning over the table. “What happens if I don’t?”
He smiles. “I hold the money until you do. Upon your death, the same stipulations would pass onto any child you have. If you do not have any, then the estate will be donated to charity.”
I nod. “Sounds good to me. Do that then.”
Standing, I go to leave the room, but Mr. Piper stops me. “Your anger is warranted. I never agreed with how he handled things, but he had his reasons.” He hands me the letter I left on the table. “Read it. Understand him. He really did love you and your father.”
My heart aches at the mention of a man I haven’t seen since I was five years old.
My beautiful baby girl.
I could almost hear his voice still. At least, the voice I made up in my head. I have no idea if it is really his.
Taking the letter, I don’t say another word as I storm out of the office.
I don’t want anything from that man or his family.I’ve survived this long on my own, and I plan to for the rest of my life.
