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Covington almost rolled his eyes. "Your father wants you to find spouses you will be happy with and so you can't just enter into a marriage of convenience. If you do, it will only be worth twenty-five million of the one billion fund. Your father hopes you won't divorce, but understands that it might be beyond your control, but only three marriages are permitted in total over your lifetime. Once you have divorced your third wife, that's it. No more money."
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"That's like," David said, struggling for words. "It's slavery! He's enslaving us to our wives."
He stood up from his chair and went to the large picture window overlooking the city. Tall and well-built, David looked every inch the rock star with his longish black hair and tattoos covering his arms. He played lead guitar in an alt-metal band that was currently touring the US. They'd signed a big contract and had a new album coming out in the fall. He had groupies–lots of them–and girlfriends in every city waiting for his return. It would be especially hard for him to settle down, considering all the women willing to sleep with him on a moment's notice.
I could see Covington fight to keep from smiling. "You don't have to get married, David. You can stay single for as long as you want but then you forfeit access to your half a billion-dollar fund set aside for your married life, which your father believes is far too much. Plus, there are incentives for having children. On the birth of your first child, or on the date you adopt if you are unable to have your own biological children, you will receive another disbursement of twenty-five million on that date and on each subsequent year. All told, it works out to one billion dollars over twenty years. That's quite a significant sum."
We were all expecting to inherit one-fifth of his fortune. That would mean each of us would become a billionaire.
I stared at the letter in my hand, and thought of my father. He really wanted us to replicate his own life.
David turned to stare at the rest of us, his mouth open wide, expecting us to respond.
"What do you think, Michael?" David asked.
Beside me, my brother Michael shifted in his seat uncomfortably. At thirty, Michael was the owner of a construction company he'd started when he finished his degree in engineering. He didn't like family disputes and avoided them at all costs growing up.
"He made it clear to us he didn't believe in inherited wealth. Said it was against the principles of meritocracy."
David stared at Michael for a moment in disbelief.
"Did you know about this?" David asked in an accusatory voice. "Did you know he would blackmail us into getting married and having families?"
"No, but we talked about it before he died. He made it clear to anyone who might have listened."
David was clearly upset – more so than any of the rest of us. He returned to the table and picked up the letter once more, re-reading it.
"Your father was a strong family man," Covington replied, his tone patient. "He wanted you to follow the same path."
"I'm a fucking rock star," David said, slamming down the sheet of paper and sitting back down into his chair. "This is America! We have this thing called freedom. Forcing us to marry and have children is tyranny."
I could see Covington fight to stay neutral. "No one is forcing you to do anything. Your father didn't want to give you boys any money, but your mother made him create these funds, which are still considerable, given the average income for this country."
"I'm only twenty-eight, for Christ's sake," David protested. "I need a few more years before I have to settle down. I have groupies, not a wife!"
Covington cleared his throat, his patience apparently wearing thin. "Your father was married at twenty-eight and your mother gave birth to Joshua within the first year of their marriage. You boys can wait as long as you like but you won't get any of the money until your first wedding anniversary."
"We're men, not boys." Nash, my second-oldest brother and a former military pilot who now ran his own airline, frowned while he read over the will.
"Precisely," Covington said, glaring at Nash over top of his reading glasses. "Your father supported all of you while you pursued your personal goals. He funded your college educations. He gave you a home. You had ample allowances and he helped you when you wanted to start businesses or travel the world. If you don't approve of his terms, you can always continue your own way but if you want your share, you must marry and have children."
Nash grimaced like he hated the very idea of marriage and family. At thirty-one, he was closest to me in age. He'd bought a small jet after he got out of the service, using the money he'd saved while in the military, and started his company with my father's help. They had been partners in the fledgling airline. As a former fighter jock, my father was so proud of Nash. Nothing made him quite as happy as the knowledge that Nash was running his own airline.
I hadn't seen him for more than a year. He'd been off in the Middle East flying in relief supplies to war-torn zones. By his side was a motorcycle helmet and he was wearing a black leather jacket and black leather riding pants. He had a huge Harley, parked outside the offices. He looked like a rogue, despite being squeaky clean as a business man.
Nash was certainly a man by anyone's reckoning. He was always a rebel, despite being in the military, but you didn't fly high-performance aircraft at Mach 2 without having a wild streak in you. He was beloved by women everywhere, in every airport and military base he traveled to. I could see how the will's requirements would cramp his style.
"Do you think this can be challenged in court?" David said and shook his head in disbelief. "Isn't there some kind of civil rights issue involved in forcing children to marry and have families?"
"You're not being forced. You can choose to stay single for as long as you want." Covington exhaled. "Think of it this way: once you marry, it will all begin," he said and held his hands up, gesturing to the whole world.
"What will begin?" David grumbled. "Slavery to a woman and children?"
"Real life," Covington replied.
"Real life? Who needs it." David shot him a nasty look. "I prefer living the dream, thanks."
