Page 45 of Her Mafia King


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“Paul was just trying to take care of things for Mom, but he’s used to taking instructions from Daddy.” Her eyes turned upward. “It’s nice out here. Those people,” she groaned.

“I know. How are you doing? Need a chair?” I teased.

She rolled her eyes. “Brandon won’t let me ride. He told the stables to stop saddling for me. It’s awful. You have no idea.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure the horses miss you too.”

“Maybe you could go with me? I’ll show you who I’ve added to the stables. I have an incredible stallion right now.”

It was hard to tell her no when she was this excited. “Yeah. Let’s go out there this week.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

“About what exactly? There’s a lot at stake right now.”

“The will,” she whispered it like it was a dirty word.

“Paul and I have a meeting tonight.”

“What happens to Paris?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Someone has to take over the vineyard operations.”

“Since when did you care about our vineyards in France?”

I saw the way she pinched her lips together. There was something she wanted to say. Something she wanted to ask. I knew my sister better than anyone.

“What is it?” I prodded.

“It’s just…” Her eyes darted to her belly. “Paris…if you need someone…”

The door to the funeral home flew open, and a man in a brown suit hurried toward us. I groaned.

“Mr. Corban?”

“Yes?”

“I need your signature on a few items,” he explained.

“Our family attorney is handling everything.”

“I can’t find him.”

Paul had left to prepare for our meeting. I looked at Seraphina. “We’ll continue this later, okay?” I walked inside with the funeral manager. I stood in his dusty office for thirty minutes, signing approvals for the services already performed. I tossed the pen on the desk when I was finished.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Corban. I’m sorry I had to ask you at this time. I’m sure your grief is unbearable. Your father was a great man. A great man to everyone in the city.”

I mumbled.

I left his office, ready to drive to the compound. The sooner Paul and I could begin extracting the paperwork for my father’s estate, the sooner I’d be able to take control.

I walked past the receiving room. The staff was clearing out the coffee and the cake. Someone ran a vacuum over the faded oriental carpets.

“There you are.” My mother’s hand landed on my sleeve. “I’m going to take my own car back to the house. I’m going to lie down.”

I leaned to kiss her cheek. “Probably a good idea. Brandon and Seraphina are already gone?”

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