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Brick began to nod. “True,” he agreed. “That was weird.”
“But then we received news of Finley’s death, and I wasn’t sure how to probe the issue until Bruno brought it up. So I did a little digging, this time into Finley himself, until I finally found him.”
My eyes bugged. “Alive?”
“Living in Mexico,” Hayden confirmed. “A millionaire.”
I wasn’t sure how to digest that. My gaze fell across the table without meaning to, and it latched onto Ezra, where he sat with his hands pressed together and set against his mouth. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression was completely unreadable, so I turned back to Hayden.
“Oh my God. What…? How…?”
Hayden’s stare went solemn. “I started to wonder if Lana had paid him off to alter Arthur’s will. I searched her office, in the hopes of finding his original will, or some kind of clue or proof that she’d changed it.”
So that’s why he’d been ransacking her office the night of the Halloween party. It was all starting to make sense now. Horrible, distressing sense.
“But I had no luck there,” he went on. “I went through her condo next. And with a little help from a friend, we hit the jackpot. Not only did we find the original will, but I swear she kept a little treasure trove holding all her sins: proof she’d hired people to murder my father, and take care of the Myrtles, and make Arthur’s death look like natural causes. It was like a serial killer’s brag box or some such sick shit.”
With a shudder, I covered my mouth with both hands and stared sightlessly at the top of the conference room table. A supportive arm wrapped around my shoulders, and I leaned into Brick before clutching his arm, unable to believe this was happening.
Lana had killed my father. She paid someone to take his life.
My father.
She’d taken him away from me.
My vision swum. Brick tugged me even closer until he was straight-up hugging me. I squeezed my eyes closed, pretending this wasn’t happening.
“Your dad left the company to you, Kaitlynn.” Hayden’s soft voice jolted through me until my eyes sprang open. “All of it,” he confirmed.
He held up his hand to show me a thick, folded batch of papers within his grip. My father’s will.
“He didn’t leave any of it to Lana. He must’ve known all along she couldn’t be trusted, because he specifically mentioned she get nothing. My guess is she learned about that little detail and had Fin Tin alter his will so she could take whatever she wanted. She allotted you only enough to keep the fake from looking too suspicious, but she even dipped into the money he originally left Brick and me so we’d get less than what he intended, as well.”
“Bitch,” Brick growled under his breath.
“Then,” Hayden added, “when Arthur turned up dead, I’m guessing Fin Tin realized Lana was behind it, and took off with whatever she’d paid him before she could take him out too. When the police found him, he spilled everything. He had contacted her that day Bruno overheard them because he’d grown brave during his years in Mexico, and he wanted to blackmail her: more money for his continued silence.”
I could only shake my head numbly and stare at Hayden before whispering, “He left the company to me?” When I straightened, Brick let go of me so I could face the facts slamming into me from what felt like all sides.
But the fact was, my dad had loved me all along.
I had been so hurt and secretly upset with him, and the entire time, he’d left JFI in my hands. He’d never stopped loving me. He’d never turned his back on me. He’d remained my dad. Always.
Shame filled me for ever doubting his affection. I had to be the worst daughter ever.
“That doesn’t mean it’s all her company now,” Henry Nash spoke up, jostling me from my guilt.
“Dad,” Ezra hissed, waving him quiet, but Henry shook his head before turning to my lawyers. “Nash Corporation purchased half of Judge Fashions Industry, fair and square. It was a legal, binding agreement we sunk fifty million dollars into. Half of it is still ours.”
“But you purchased it from Lana Judge, who had no legal right to sell it,” Richard stated firmly.
“I don’t fucking care,” Henry roared. “My son loves this place. He’s put all his time and energy—his goddamn soul—into restoring it this past year, pulling it from the brink of bankruptcy. It would be nothing now if not for him. He’s not losing it.”
I glanced toward Ezra, only to find him with his eyes squeezed closed and teeth gritted as if in pain.
I knew his father spoke the truth. He loved working here. Part of his blood, sweat, and toil did and would forever more reside within these walls. He didn’t want to lose it any more than I did. I didn’t think I really wanted him to lose it, either.
But…
