Page 9 of My Orc Contract Husband
Although, in the five-plus years I’d been here on Eastshore, I hadn’t heard from him once. Maybe hedidn’tcare about me once I was gone; once I couldn’t benefit him any longer. For all I knew, maybe he’d talked Pierce into marrying some other poor girl.
I shivered, staring down into my wine.
“Sami…”
When I glanced up, my aunt was watching me sympathetically. “You okay?”
I don’t know what compelled me to mention it. Maybe it was that I was thinking about my father and his world. But I blurted, “I got an unpleasant reminder today.”
At Aunt Sharon’s urging, I told her about the scene in front of the house I’d been showing Tarkhan. Maybe I lingered onhima little too long because she reached across the counter to take my hand. At that, I hurried through relaying the rest of the events.
“I’m not sure,” I said with an attempt at a dismissive shrug. “I’m sure it’s just a legal matter, but the courier…” I frowned at the memory, and how Tarkhan had tried to protect me. Maybehe’dsensed something dangerous as well. “The whole situation just reminded me of my father’s world. Fancy suits, fancy cars, hand-delivered threats.”
“Threats?” Sharon repeated sharply. “Is that what it was?”
Again, I shrugged. “The folio is in my office. I thought I’d look it over tomorrow.”
She was peering at me intently and now squeezed my hand. “Is that what you want? You’re not worried about it?”
Iwas.Was I that obvious?
“It’s probably just something for work,” I whispered.
But when I met her eyes, I could tell my aunt wasn’t convinced any more than I was. Was her heart poundingas hard as mine was right now? Her gut an anxious ball of churning?
“Go get it,” Aunt Sharon murmured. “I’ll help you read it.”
Swallowing, I dropped her hand and hurried to scoop the folio from my desk in the second bedroom, then plopped down beside my aunt once more.
We both stared at it; black leather embossed with a “M” in the center.
Aunt Sharon’s hand was shaking when she reached out to trace that letter. “Your father’s partner…”
I swallowed. “Pierce Montgomery. The Third.”
She was the one to flip open the folio and draw out the packet of papers.
“Oh no,” she breathed.
It was the fear in her eyes that caused my heart to stutter, caused me to snatch the packet from her hands.
But once I held it, I could only stare in disbelief.
There was no letter, no note of explanation.
Just a death certificate.
“He’s dead,” I whispered. My father had died in April. He’d been dead for months, and I hadn’t known. Hadn’t felt anything.
I didn’t feel anythingnowexcept…emptiness. Confusion. Bewildered, I looked up at Aunt Sharon, and saw my shock reflected in her expression.
“He’s dead,” I repeated, my fingers tightening around the packet of paper. “I didn’t know…”
“What else is there?” Her voice was a bare croak, as if she couldn’t find the words either.
My own mouth was dry with fear when I began to shuffle through the papers. “His will. Information about his holdings. These are instructions on how to access the penthouse. This…” I skimmed. “Is a breakdown of his holdings.”
When I read, Aunt Sharon took some of the papers from my hand. It wasn’t until she sucked in a breath that I looked up. There wasfearin her eyes when they met mine.
