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“Damn it!” A fancy pen rattles on the wood surface of the table as I pound my fists in one definitivethwap, earning myself a glare from the lawyer.
“Do you need a moment to compose yourself?” The man tilts his chin a fraction so he’s looking down on me.
Who talks like that?Does he want me to take a little lie down on a fainting couch or something?
“No,” I grind the word through my teeth. “I’m fine. And I’m not getting married.”
Which means the money will never be mine. Hell, I can see the expression on my father’s face, clear as if he’s standing next to me.
Shock, then greed, then smugness.
Because the asshole will only need a second to convince himself he deserves every cent.
“There’s no way to divert the inheritance to a charitable organization? Maybe smudge a line or something in the document?” I lean forward, eager for a way to fix this. The lawyer rears back, drawing the will with him.
“No. These are your grandmother’s final wishes. Even if that means nothing to you, I will not allow alterations to be made to a legal document.”
Means nothing to me?
All the anger drains out of my chest, leaving a gaping hole behind.
“You know, I do need a minute. Tocomposemyself.” I shove up from the cushy chair in this lawyer’s plush office and storm into the hallway. I head down the hallway without a direction until I spot an exit sign over a door indicating stairs.
The stairwell is the opposite of the lawyer’s office. All cement and practicality instead of plush leather chairs and brass fixtures that scream,my clients make a lot of money and so do I. When I first walked into the place, I’d thought we’d gotten the address wrong. Then the receptionist greeted us with a wide smile and said Dash and I were expected.
I knew my grandmother had some money. Her house was a decent size, and her designer clothes and pristine manicures spoke of a woman who lived comfortably.
But I didn’t know she was rich.
No wonder Wai Po was distrusting of my brother and I when we first found her. Took some time for her to accept we were who we said we were. Once that happened, she was determined to get to know us.
The same way I was set on learning everything I could about her.
But I guess she didn’t trust me enough to share her diagnosis. To warn me our time was limited.
“Damn it.” My words bounce back to me off the stark industrial walls. I sink down to plant my ass on a step and bury my face in my hands.
There is not much in this world that can force tears out of me. Crying means vulnerability, and vulnerability means someone can hurt you.
I don’t let people hurt me.
But damn it, this hurts.
To find family and then to lose them, all in a single year.
And that stuffy, stick-up-his-ass lawyer thinks I don’t care?
“Fuck him,” I mutter.
The click and squeak of the heavy door to the stairwell opening has my head swinging up. I quickly swipe away the few tears that muscled their way out of my eyes. Dash lets the door swing shut behind him and joins me on the stairs, his long legs bending at a dramatic angle on the short perch.
“You okay?” His gentle question has my chest tightening again, but I force myself to stifle the hurt. Of course, that only leaves the anger.
“It’s complete bullshit. I can’t believe she’s giving all her money to Dad just to try to get me married.”
Dash adjusts his seat. “Not all her money.”
“What?”
