Page 3 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
She lived at home with me, had her own bedroom and birthday parties and bedtime stories.
Everything I had never known.
Dr. Sterling spoke for the first time since the reading began.
"The child is enrolled here, yes. But that hardly qualifies her father to run an institution of this caliber."
"With respect," I said, keeping my voice level, "I've managed multi-million-dollar construction projects for the past fifteen years. I understand budgets, timelines, and personnel management."
"Building shopping centers is hardly the same as educational leadership," Caldwell said dismissively.
Margot leaned forward, her lawyer instincts finally kicking into gear. "I want to see the psychological evaluation that deemed Father competent to execute this will. No rational person would place such arbitrary conditions on an inheritance."
"Your father underwent a full cognitive assessment," Blackwood replied smoothly. "I have the documentation here if you'd care to review it."
"This whole thing is a circus," Caroline snapped. "No court in the country would uphold these terms. They're punitive and unreasonable."
I stood up, the chair scraping against the floor.
Every eye in the room fixed on me, waiting for my response.
The boy who had fled this place at eighteen would have agreed with Caroline.
He would have walked away from the money, the responsibility, the impossible weight of family expectation.
But that boy hadn't known about Eloise yet.
"I'll do it," I said.
The room erupted.
Caroline shot to her feet, her handbag dropping to the floor with a thud. "You can't be serious. You don't even want this place."
"You're right. I don't want the money or the estate." I looked directly at Caldwell, letting him see the resolve in my expression. "But I want the school to remain what it was meant to be. And I want my daughter to have the choice I never had—to belong somewhere or to leave."
Margot gathered her papers with sharp, angry movements.
"This is insane. Ninety days to find a wife? What woman in her right mind would agree to that arrangement?"
"I'll find someone."
"A gold digger, you mean. Someone willing to marry you for access to the Vale fortune." Caroline's voice dripped with disdain. "That's exactly the kind of marriage Father would have approved of—cold, calculated, and completely without love."
The accusation stung because it held a grain of truth.
But love had nothing to do with what I needed.
I needed someone reliable, trustworthy, and uninterested in the social climbing that came with the Vale name.
Someone who would understand that this was about my daughter's future, not romantic fairy tales.
Dr. Sterling cleared her throat.
"The board will require assurance that any marriage meets the spirit of the will's requirements, not merely the letter. We won't be fooled by obvious shams or temporary arrangements."
"The marriage will be legal and permanent," I said. "The will's terms will be met."
Caldwell's smile held no warmth. "We'll see about that. Theodore, I assume you'll be monitoring the situation closely?"
