Page 2 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
Margot's pen had stilled, but her jaw remained locked in anticipation.
The board members leaned forward as if they could will the words to align with their preferences.
"To my son, Harrison Edmund Vale, I leave the family estate, including the main house, grounds, and all contents therein. I further bequeath to Harrison full ownership and operational control of Hawthorne Academy, including all assets, endowments, and decision-making authority."
"What?" The word exploded from Caroline's mouth before she could stop it. "That's impossible. He walked away from this family twenty-two years ago. He refused every olive branch, every attempt at reconciliation?—"
Blackwood held up a hand.
"Please allow me to finish."
Margot's pen resumed its tapping, faster now.
"There has to be more to it. Father wouldn't have given everything to someone who spent two decades treating the Vale name as a curse."
"Contingent upon the following condition. Harrison must enter into legal marriage within ninety days of my death, before his fortieth birthday. Should he fail to meet this requirement, all aforementioned assets will pass to the Hawthorne Academy Board of Trustees for disposition as they see fit."
The silence that followed felt thick enough to cut.
I could hear the grandfather clock in the corner marking time—tick, tick, tick—each second adding more pressure to my already frazzled nerves.
My sisters' faces were screwed up in anger at me over something I had no part of.
I didn't want this at all.
I just wanted to go home and grieve like any other man who'd just lost his father.
Caldwell leaned back in his chair, and I caught the hint of satisfaction in his expression.
"I see. And if Harrison chooses not to marry?"
"Then the board assumes full control," Blackwood confirmed. "The academy becomes an independent institution with no family oversight. The estate would be sold, with proceeds distributed to various educational charities."
"Manipulative bastard." Caroline's voice came out as a whisper, but it carried clearly in the silent room. "Even from the grave, he's still trying to control us."
I found my voice at last. "What about Caroline and Margot?"
"Each sister receives a trust fund of two million dollars, payable immediately, regardless of your decision."
Margot set down her pen with rage making her fingers shake.
"Two million. That's insulting. The academy alone is worth fifty times that amount."
"Your father was very specific about his intentions," Blackwood said. "He believed Harrison was the only one capable of preserving the school's original mission."
The word "original" made me want to grumble out a few choice words, but I bit my tongue.
I remembered my father's speeches about character and tradition, about molding young minds for leadership.
I also remembered the loneliness that permeated every corner of this place, the way students and faculty alike learned to keep their heads down and their emotions hidden.
"The man who raised us in an institutional dormitory thinks he knows about family values?" Caroline's voice climbed toward hysteria. "Harrison hasn't spoken to any of us in years. He doesn't even use the Vale name."
"I use it for Eloise," I said quietly.
The admission surprised them into silence.
My daughter attended Hawthorne as a day student—the only compromise I had been willing to make with my past.
