Page 77 of Bound To Me

“I’ll get straight to the point, ma’am,” he started, closing his briefcase before setting an envelope on top of the stack. “Michael Barnes has left all of his possessions and money to you.”

I stared at him in disbelief for what felt like an eternity.No. Fucking. Way.“This has to be a mistake. I—this isn’t possible,” I said, shaking my head.

He nodded and picked up the envelope from the stack.

“In his will, he left a personal letter for you, meant to be read only by you,” he said with a shrug, handing the envelope to me.

I looked down at the envelope, which was addressed:Sweet Jackie. Tears welled in my eyes as I hesitantly broke the seal, my hands trembling as I pulled out a single white piece of paper.

Jackie,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m dead. I’m sure you had something to do with it, or maybe it was an accident. I really hope you had something to do with it, because that means you finally fought back. I had little remorse for how I treated you. I knew you deserved better, but I loved having you as my pet. I knew I was selfish.

As a reward for being such a good girl for so long, I’m giving you everything I have. You deserve it for being the only person to ever love me the way you did. My bank accounts, properties, stocks—everything is now yours. Even in death, I want to take care of you, my sweet little pet. Do whatever you want with it. But please, do me this one last thing—

I turned the piece of paper over, my hands trembling. I shook my head, unable to process what I’d just read. “I can’t readanymore,” I muttered, the anger and disbelief clawing at me.That fucking asshole.“I can’t accept this. I don’t want it.”

I can’t believe he’s still trying to torment me, even in death. Leaving me something like this, as if he could control me from beyond the grave. It’s just another way for him to reach out, to remind me of the pain he caused. I won’t let him have that power over me, even now.

The attorney’s face fell, disappointment etched in his features as he shook his head. “Miss Olsen, if you refuse to accept this, who knows where this kind of money will go?” he reasoned, his tone earnest. “My suggestion? Take it, and give it to someone or something else that needs it.”

I pondered his words in the silence that followed. Seconds stretched into what felt like hours as I wrestled with my conscience. Finally, with a heavy yet resolved heart, I nodded. “Okay,” I murmured, meeting his gaze with determination. With my decision made, a weight lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of purpose. “I’ll accept it.”

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