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“According to Vivienne Beaumont’s will, should anything happen to Joan Clement, you will fully receive the inheritance when you reach the age of twenty-seven. Which is next year, yes?”
Belle nodded.
“And when that time comes, your father, if he were still alive, along with Maggie Beaumont and her daughters, would lose their privilege to live in the Beaumont mansion and no longer receive their allowance. And according to Trent, Maggie and the twins blackmailed him into marrying you, so that when the time comes, he’d be able to persuade you to amend Vivienne Beaumont’s will.”
Belle slowly covered her face with her hands and shook her head. “I can’t believe this. It’s all about money…”
Armand couldn’t contain his curiosity. “What did the twins blackmail Trent Curtis with?”
A grin flashed across Del Rio’s face. “Curtis has an infantile fetish. Clara Beaumont videotaped him while he was engaged in a session with a professional domme. Curtis said Clara threatened to send the tape to his family and his employer, Senator Burke. Imagine the embarrassment on his part.”
Armand wanted to laugh but he suppressed it. It wouldn’t be polite. Hervé didn’t seem to care. He roared heartily and had to excuse himself from the room so he wouldn’t disrupt the meeting.
“Infantile fetish?” Belle asked innocently.
Armand placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll explain it later, babe.” He turned to Del Rio. “Are you going to open an investigation about Arthur and Joan Clement’s deaths?”
Del Rio nodded. “As soon as I hand my report to my boss. And, Ms Beaumont, may I suggest you obtain a lawyer to look into your inheritance.”
“Lawyer?”
“I’ll get that covered,” Armand said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Good.” Del Rio pocketed his pen. “I’ll start my report right away, and I’ll contact you tomorrow with the latest developments.”
“Do you want wine?” Hervé asked her. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t drink.”
“Just water for me, please.” Belle put down her fork and held up her glass as Hervé’s servant poured some water from a crystal decanter. “Thank you.”
Hervé’s servant inclined his head and silently withdrew.
“Tired?” Armand noticed she was a bit worn out.
“A little. All of this is a bit overwhelming,” she confessed. The three of them were having dinner at Hervé’s place. After the incident with Trent, Armand and Hervé insisted she shouldn’t return to her apartment until everything was sorted out. Besides, it was easier to commute to work if she stayed at Hervé’s for a while.
Belle found dealing with lawyers, the police, and the hysterical Maggie and the twins, the people she thought were her flesh and blood, was utterly exhausting. Maggie, Clara and Sarah had threatened, cursed, and pleaded for her to change her mind about allowing them to stay in the Beaumont’s mansion like nothing had happened. Originally, Belle had thought of letting Maggie and the twins stay and continue their life as if nothing had happened until she knew what to do about them. But when the police exhumed her father and her biological mother’s bodies for autopsies, and the medical examiner changed their deaths from suicide to homicide, Belle simply couldn’t forgive Maggie that easily. Because of that woman’s greed, Belle had been deprived of her parents when she grew up, and was forced to endure Maggie and the twins’ verbal and mental abuse to the point of it affecting her emotionally and crushing her self-confidence.
With the help of Armand’s lawyer explaining her rights and the terms of her inheritance, Belle decided to cut off Maggie and the twins’ allowances and give them thirty days to clear out from the Beaumont mansion.
And when the time came, she had also decided to give everything to several charity organisations. On her twenty-seventh birthday, she stood to inherit a ridiculous amount of money that she personally didn’t know what to do with. She’d thought long before she made her decision. A jet-set lifestyle wasn’t her thing. In fact, she kind of hated it, being a pretentious rich girl like the twins. Belle liked her simple life. And she thought it would be a grand punishment for the three of them when they knew the inheritance would be given away to those in need, the wealth that compelled them to conspire and murder her father and her mother in the first place.
“Don’t worry, everything should be over soon and we can all go back to normal,” Armand said.
But that was what she was dreading. As much as she hated to admit it, she was enjoying this arrangement. The three of them living together under one roof, and Hervé and Armand weren’t trying to kill each other. When they weren’t thinking about their competition, Hervé and Armand were actually getting along really well. Belle enjoyed their company and their undivided attention. Hervé drove her to work every morning and Armand popped out at lunchtimes to take her to get something to eat. When she had an appointment with the lawyers or the police matters, the two men were there for her. She’d always been independent her whole life, but she found having people she could depend on was actually nice. Armand and Hervé hadn’t tried to touch her since that incident. They seemed to want to give her some space. Belle was grateful for that, but mourned it in secret at the same time. Ever since she’d visited Maison Plaisir that night, she’d been getting her cookies almost on a regular basis. Now, she’d been cut off it from it for more than three weeks and her body was now demanding its due.
Belle bit the inside of her lip, feeling ashamed of herself. Damn, I’m turning into a pervert. She shook away any lingering thoughts, hoping neither man had noticed what she was thinking. She knew both of them had a knack for reading people. “Yeah,” she said, forcing the words out. “I can’t wait for all of this to be over.”
The air around them changed after she spoke. Hervé stiffened. Armand tensed. She drained her glass of water, thinking of an excuse so they wouldn’t have to have the conversation she was dreading.
But Armand beat her first. He wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I know this isn’t an appropriate time to discuss it, but I can’t wait any longer.”
Oh no. Belle fought an urge to groan. Why can’t we discuss this next week? Next month? Next year? I’m happy with the way we are right now.
“Me too,” added Hervé. His face was as stern as his voice.
Belle took a deep breath. “About?”
“About you.” Armand watched her, fingers tapping on the surface of the table. “I want you to decide which one of us you’ll take as your husband.”
