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I pulled out of Tasha and zipped up.
She stayed bent over the counter, exposing her pussy to my father. Looking back, she winked at him. “When you’re done with Ethan, maybe you can help me finish, Mr. Moore.”
His cheeks reddened as he turned. My mother left him years ago, and he hadn’t been with another since. He always said he was too busy, but I believed she broke his heart. Love was a joke.
Moore Mansion was large enough to fit all the Moore’s and our staff. We all had our own wing and avoided each other most days. I followed my father down the hall and into his office.
My grandfather stayed to himself on the east wing enjoying his retirement. My father lived in the west wing and ran Moore Tech. As for me, I had the south wing, and I lived the life they should have. We had money, so why not enjoy it?
My father closed the door and sat on the sofa. That’s when I noticed his face. His eyes were bloodshot. What I had thought was him blushing now looked more like he had been wiping away tears.
I had only ever seen him cry twice. The day my mother left and the day my sister died. Fuck. This was bad. My stomach turned.
“When?” I asked, knowing what he was about to say.
“A few minutes ago. Heart attack. He placed his hand on my shoulder. “They tried to save him. Your Grandpa was a fighter.”
He continued to talk as I got up and stormed down the hall. My gramps had a room turned into a makeshift hospital room in case he got sick. He was always prepared. There had been no need for it until now. He would still be in there.
I stepped into the room. My gramps was lying on the hospital bed with a sheet covering everything, including his face. A tiny nurse was shutting off the monitors with tears pouring down her face.
At one point in my life, all I had was him. When I lost my sister, my dad shut himself down. He stayed hidden with his grief. My gramps helped me through it. Now he was gone. Fuck.
I grabbed his hand with my tattoo-covered one. He was still warm as if he was sleeping. I could still hear him.Another tattoo? What are you thinking? How will you ever find a wife?
The room was cold, even though the fireplace was going. My father sat next to me on the sofa. Across from us was Mr. Benny, our lawyer.
It had only been three days since my gramps passed away, but Mr. Benny insisted on seeing us. My gramps wasn’t even in the ground yet. It took time to plan a funeral with thousands of attendees. Everyone would show up to pay their respects and try to make business deals. Everything was business.
“I know you two are grieving, but we must discuss the will.” Mr. Benny opened his briefcase.
“Shouldn’t Tristan and Joseph be here?” I asked. Tristan was married to my late sister, and Joseph was their son. Even if my gramps didn’t plan on giving Tristan anything, he wouldn’t leave his great-grandson out of the will.
“Not for this.” Mr. Benny rifled through papers. Sweat poured down his temples. The room was freezing, so the perspiration had to be from his nerves, not the temperature.
“What is this about?” My dad leaned forward to appear more intimidating. “My father isn’t even cold yet. The will is not to be read until after the funeral.”
“Yes, but this is of importance.” He pulled a piece of paper out and adjusted his glasses. He cleared his throat. “My dearest Ethan, seeing you so closed off has always pained me. Losing the only two women in your life has made a serious negative impact on you. I mean, look at all your tattoos.”
I chuckled. Only my gramps would find a way to bring up my tattoos, even after he died. He was wrong about losing two women. I lost my sister, but I didn’t lose my mother. She left.
“I needed to find a way to unfreeze your heart. Well, at least show you the importance of love. As I am writing this, you are about to turn twenty-eight. It’s time.” Mr. Benny wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Um. Um. Before I read this part, I want you to know I’m checking the legality of this.”
“Read it,” I demanded.
“Yes, sir. Ethan, I have changed my will. All of Moore’s assets are frozen except enough to pay my funeral and for you and your father to survive for one month.”
“What?” my father and I said simultaneously.
“There’s more.” Mr. Benny quickly continued. “At that time, everything will be donated to various foundations across New Boston unless you, Ethan Moore, are married.”
I snatched the paper from his hand. My gramps was sneaky, but this? I had to have heard that wrong.
“I’m gonna need you to explain that.” My father raked his hand across his face.
“Ethan has one month to get married, or your family will lose everything.” Mr. Benny wiped his forehead again.
“Fuck!” I ground my teeth.
