Page 4 of The Sexy Billionaire

“He’s engaged to a famous actress now,” I tell him.

“No way,” my brother answers as he pulls out his phone and looks him up. “She’s hot, lucky guy,” he states as he starts scrolling on his phone.

“You two ready?” my mom asks, popping her head into the room.

“I guess.”

And we head to the lawyer’s office for the reading of Lucia’s will.

“Thank you all for coming here for the reading of the last will and testament of Countess Lucia Francesca Chiara Borghese. Let us begin,” the stuffy lawyer explains.

It’s strange hearing Great-Aunt Lucia being addressed as a countess; she was just Lucia to my brother and me. I look over at where my brother is seated, dressed in a dark suit as he stares forward, listening to the lawyer. He’s struggling to keep his emotions in check as a single tear falls down his cheek. My brother is one of the strongest people I know. He’s a detective in the NYPD, just like our father was. Smith’s used to seeing the worst of the worst and is a vault when it comes to his emotions, so seeing him struggle today breaks my heart.

I peer over at my parents; Dad is holding my mother’s hand tightly in his as she dabs her eyes with a tissue, leaning on him for strength. I wish my own husband was here beside me, giving me the strength I need to get through this.

“Firstly, Bianca Johnson, formally Leone, my niece, I bequeath five million euros.”

My parents gasp, and my brother and I look at each other. Holy hell, that is a lot of money. I had no idea she was that rich. I assumed the title was in name only, not that it held anything of significance; obviously, I was wrong.

“Next, we have my great-nephew, Smith Johnson. I bequeath five million euros to you, too.”

“Holy shit.” My brother gasps beside me.

“And my apartment in the Upper East Side and my home in the Hamptons,” the lawyer adds quickly.

Smith and I look at each other again, our eyes wide. That is crazy, no way; that apartment is insane with views over Central Park, and my brother loved that house in the Hamptons. It was his refuge from the city and his job when he needed to get away from his world for a moment.

The lawyer then turns his attention to me. “Next, my great-niece, Paige Johnson. What I am about to leave to you is a lot and I know you are going to say it is too much and that you aren’t the right person for it. But I have always believed in you, and I know that my decision is the right one. If you don’t take it, I will haunt you from the grave until you do.”

As the lawyer reads out Lucia’s comments, the room erupts with laughter despite the sorrowful time. What on earth does she have planned for me?

“I bequeath the title Countess and all that comes with that title.”

What in the hell?Countess? No.

“That includes the estate outside Florence, an apartment in Rome, an apartment in Paris, a villa in Sardinia, as well as twenty million euros cash for the upkeep and staff of the estates. Additionally, family heirloom jewels worth five million euros. Then there are the investments, stocks, and bonds as well as my businesses that I own. Please see my financial advisor, Antony, for the full list of everything that comes with the name,” the lawyer explains.

Wait, what?

This cannot be happening right now.

“Holy shit, Paige,” Smith curses under his breath as he stares at me in bewilderment.

“This is too much. That doesn’t seem fair to the rest of my family,” I say, looking at my parents who only received cash compared to my brother and me.

“Sweetheart, these are Lucia’s wishes. She wants you to be the next countess, she’s entrusting the family’s legacy with you,” my mother explains.

“But what about you?” I say to them.

“Lucia knew what my parents left me when they passed. They set us up, it is the reason we haven’t had to worry about our retirement. Please, sweetheart, we have more than enough.”

What was Lucia thinking, making me a countess?

“But …” I begin to argue, but my mother shakes her head.

“Before she passed, Lucia explained to me her wishes of handing over her legacy to you. She spoke about how you always felt at home here in Italy, that it brought out the best in you. She believed your destiny was always to come back and create a life and a family here,” my mother explains.

Of course, I love Italy; it’s in my bones, my essence, and I would give anything to live here, except my husband doesn’t have the same love for Italy as I do. In fact, he hates it, probably because he’s French.

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