Page 2 of Twisted Gift

He gestures for us to sit and returns to his chair. “Not to worry. I just need to go over some paperwork with you and get your signature to authorize the transfer of the deed.”

I shake my head. “The what?”

The lawyer offers a puzzled expression. “Mr. Taylor left his business in your name. It took some time to deal with some of his associates—some of whom wanted to contest his wishes. I would have contacted you sooner, but Mr. Taylor requested I wait several weeks before doing so.”

“I’m a little confused,” I admit, wiping my hands on my pants as I glance between Allison and the man.

He looks over the papers in his hand before his eyes meet mine. “You weren’t aware the deed to Taylor’s Brew was transferred into your name after Mr. Taylor passed?”

Passed.Right. I bet this guy would be shocked to discover that I aided in Grant’s passing.

“What does this mean, exactly?” Allison cuts in.

“It means once Miss Marshall signs the authorization form, I can provide her with the keys to the building and it’ll be hers.” He turns his attention to me. “There is a tenant in the loft above the business. I will provide you with a copy of the lease agreement in Mr. Taylor’s file.”

I nod along, but my head is spinning so fast I’m struggling to keep up. “That’s it? He just left me his business and property?”

“According to his last will, that’s correct.”

“Who’s been in charge of it the last two months? Why wasn’t it left in their name?” Allison questions.

“The business itself is running the same way. According to the direction I was provided by Mr. Taylor, the only thing that changed is the ownership.”

I struggle to swallow the lump in my throat, stealing a glance at Allison, whose face is tense and brows are furrowed; my expression mirrors hers.Why did Jules do this? Is this his way of screwing with my life from the grave?

“Did he—” I pause to clear my throat. “Did he say why?”

Mr. Barnes shakes his head. “I apologize. I just assumed you would know. Mr. Taylor didn’t inform me of the reasoning behind his decision.”

I need to give myself some time to process this. Maybe the pub will hold some answers Jules’s attorney can’t offer me. I have to find out.

I clear my throat. “Where do I sign?”

I stare at the set of keys until Allison and I step off the elevator in the lobby. I feel her eyes on me, but she doesn’t say anything. She’s probably just as dumbfounded as I am.

As we exit the building, I shove the keys into my pocket with a sigh. We opt for taking the streetcar to Taylor’s Brew and stand in the far back corner.

“Why would he leave you his business?” Allison asks in a low voice, making sure we aren’t overheard by other passengers.

I shake my head. “It doesn’t make any sense. For him to change the deed... that would mean he knew he was going to die, or at least he knew there was a chance.”

“That makes it sound like hewantedyou to kill him.”

My stomach flips, forcing me to swallow the bile rising in my throat. “The guy was insane. Obsessed with power. Who the hell knows what went on inside his head? I should be looking at this objectively, but right now, I’m just relieved to have something to keep me busy after graduation.” A lump fills my throat as I think of the charitable bookstore I’d planned to open with Tristan’s help.

“Because leading the light fae won’t keep you busy enough?” she teases, offering a faint smile.

I press my lips together. “Yeah, I know I need to try to bring everyone together and show my face, but I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” What I am ready for, however, is for the light and dark fae to stop attacking each other. Not much has changed since I took the leadership from Jules, but it’s at the top of my priority list to get the light to stop attacking the dark. Tristan will have to work with the dark, too. Change won’t happen overnight, but for the sake of the fae—both sides—I hope it happens quickly.

The streetcar stops, and we get off, walking the short distance to Taylor’s Brew. Allison grabs my hand before I can reach for the door handle. “You’d better get ready fast. This place is the hangout spot for the light fae. There’s a good chance we’re going to walk inside, and it’s going to be filled with them.”

I look through the door and see people walking around, sitting and talking at the bar. I can sense that some of them are fae—it’s a tingle at the back of my neck, but the distinction between light and dark is fuzzy. Maybe with time, it’ll get easier to tell them apart.

Maybe with time, I won’t have to.

“There’s also a good chance some of them won’t be pleased that I’m with you or that you’re here at all.”

“You’re right,” I say, trying to squash the fear rolling through me like dark, violent waves. “But that’s too bad. I own this place now. If they have a problem with that, they can leave.”

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