Page 8 of Vengeful Seduction
“Thank you both for coming,” the lawyer, a distinguished older gentleman with beautiful, white hair and a dark tan that I suspected couldn’t be real, intoned. His name was, if I remembered correctly, John Dixon, or something of the sort.
He started to talk, and I didn’t pay a lot of attention. I knew what I was going to hear, after all. The only thing I was curious about was what the lovely Miss Kaye James was going to be granted. How important had she been to him, really?
“To my grandson and only living heir, I leave a message. It grieves me greatly that we were not, during my life, able to mend whatever rift there was between us.” John was reading from a paper on his desk, and I started to pay much more attention.
I realized, then, that I didn’t even know how much money was in the estate. I didn’t even know what I was about to inherit. I listened carefully, but the lawyer just turned to the lovely Kaye, and I frowned a little bit. For the first time, I started to think that something was very wrong here.
Unless he was going to deal with her very small bequest first? But then why had he mentioned me first? It didn’t make sense.
“To my nurse, Kaye James,” the lawyer continued. “You filled my last days with light and happiness. Your smiles meant everything to me. Your gentle spirit brought me peace. To you, I leave it all. Every car, every property, every last cent in every bank account. Thank you, Kaye. I only wish I had more to give you because you certainly deserve it.”
For a moment, there was complete silence in the room. During that silence, I felt something inside me—some basic idea the universe was a good and fair place—die. The last little bit of hope—of trust—in my heart withered, and in its place anger blossomed. Sick. Hot. Feverish.
“You bitch,” I hissed, turning to face Kaye. All of my dreams went up in smoke right then and there. I could, and I would, build Black Tech into a leading worldwide brand, but it was going to be a lot harder and I would be very old by the time that happened.
“Mr. Black! Please,” the lawyer said, and I noted dimly that he didn’t seem surprised by my outburst. If the man read wills on a regular basis, no doubt he was used to this sort of thing.
Kaye didn’t say anything back. She just bowed her head, letting her hair swing forward in a dark, wavy waterfall to obscure her features. In her eyes, just before they were hidden, I could swear I saw the faintest gleam of something.
Tears?
Surely not. No doubt this woman had plotted with my grandfather. Maybe she’d even put him up to it.
“He wasn’t in his right mind when he wrote this will,” I stated. I tried to keep the hint of desperation out of my voice—to sound firm and strong and not like I was grasping at straws. “He never would have done this otherwise.”
“Slander,” the lawyer said right back, his tone casual enough, but his eyes burning. “I was there, Mr. Black, and I assure you that he was in complete control of his mental faculties. I don’t appreciate you insinuating otherwise.”
It was a warning, and we both knew it. He was a lawyer and I wasn’t, and if he thought he could make a slander suit stick, he probably could. I needed to be careful, even if I suddenly felt like every inch of my body was packed with coals, smoldering and burning me from the inside out. Even if the last thing I wanted was to be careful.
So I did the one and only thing that I could do—the only thing that could save me before I said or did something to get myself into more trouble than I could handle. I wasn’t poor, but getting into a legal pissing contest with a lawyer wasn’t something that I could really afford.
I stood up and I stormed out of the room. I even let the door slam behind me and walked past the receptionist without so much as looking at her. She probably was pretty used to people having reactions like that, just as her boss was.
I would very much like to claim that I didn’t look back, but it wasn’t true. I did, just once, but just for a split second. Not at the asshole lawyer, but at Kaye, who hadn’t moved from her spot or spoken the entire time she was there.
I wasn’t going to just take this lying down. Legally, I knew I couldn’t challenge her for the money. The will had been incredibly clear. There had to be something I could do—I had never been known for simply accepting situations I didn’t like.
There was something about the way Kaye bowed forward with some sadness far more eloquent than words could ever express. Words could lie, but I was absolutely certain she could not have faked that posture. Not unless she was a lot more of a con artist than I already thought.
As my anger burned, it changed. It didn’t stay quite as hot, but lingered on and refused to die out. A hotter anger might have burned itself to ashes, but this slow, simmering rage, I knew, could last for years.
For as long as it took to get back what was mine.
The details, I wasn’t quite sure about yet. I would figure them out when I’d had some time to think about it. One thing I did know, however, was that Kaye James was going to suffer for what my grandfather had done.
Even then, I felt a surge of misgiving about that. What had Kaye done wrong? Nothing, really, other than provide exemplary service to a dying old man. Could that have been enough for him to sign away all of his worldly possessions to a relative stranger, though? No, she must have done something to convince him, I told myself.
In business, there was collateral damage. Kaye was a nurse and nurses were tough. So I did my best to put the small twinge of guilt I felt out of the way and focused instead on my dreams—the ones that needed money in order to become a reality.
Those dreams had seemed so attainable and hopeful just earlier that day, tinged only with grief over my grandfather’s death. Now they were tinged with bitterness, feeling poisonous as they wound through my head.
I was going to get what I wanted, though, no matter the cost. The businessman in me could hardly do anything else.
That bitch would get what she deserved.
Vengeance would be mine.
Chapter 3
