Chapter 3 #2
Shaking my head, I pull away from him and wipe at my drooling mouth before shoving another ginger candy inside.
“What was that? Drugs?”
I roll my eyes. “Do you think I’d be so uncouth? It’s candy, Henry. I haven’t eaten all day.”
His nose wrinkles. “Have one of the staff make you a sandwich.” I grab his wrists when he goes to wave for someone.
“No, I can’t stomach it at the moment. Why do you even care?”
He jerks his arm away with a narrowed stare. “I don’t, but you’re embarrassing yourself…and my father.”
“And how am I doing that? I’ve been standing here alone,” I say with a sigh.
Henry goes to retort, but we both fall silent when we see someone walking intently toward us.
My eyebrows dip, recognizing the estate lawyer. Something tells me he’s here for more than just paying his respects.
Allen clears his throat before dipping his head toward the study down the hallway. His eyes stray to Henry, and he offers the same gesture. My heart is in my throat as we walk behind the estate lawyer, knowing what’s waiting on the other side.
I hadn’t expected him to come the same day we buried my husband, during a celebration that hasn’t even ended, but I guess money doesn’t stop for anyone.
Instead of moving to sit behind Jeoffry’s desk, he stands before it and rests his briefcase on top. I move to the chair on his right, and Henry sits at my side.
Allen settles lightly on the corner of the desk before crossing his ankles, and his eyes shift between the two of us before looking down at the packet in his lap.
“I’d like to start off by saying my condolences on your loss. It was rather sudden.”
Neither of us say anything. Probably a mixture of fatigue from hearing it and the fact he stated the obvious. Of course it was sudden; people who contract what he did all die suddenly.
Allen flexes the paper when the silence lingers on before muttering, “Right.” He shuffles to the first page before clearing his throat. “This is the Last Will and Testament of Jeoffry Archibald Dansworth, dated February 14th, 2022.”
“To my beloved wife, Natalie Dansworth, I leave the family home at 166 Moody Road, including all contents therein, with the hope that our child is already growing and creating memories, as well as 10 percent of the investments held in my name.” Allen pauses, looking up at me as I touch my lips in shock, having not known that he intended to give me the house.
“To my disowned son, Henry Dansworth, I bequeath half of my car collection that cannot be sold and the sum of $100,000, held in trust until his thirtieth birthday.”
“I direct that the remainder of my estate, including all investments, bank accounts, board shares, and personal effects not otherwise mentioned, be given to the Dansworth heir or liquidated and invested back into Dansworth Global Investments. This will is made freely and voluntarily, and I hereby revoke all wills and codicils previously made by me.”
Allen looks up, pausing for a few seconds before finally saying, “This concludes the reading of the will. If there are any questions regarding probate or execution of the estate, I will address them now or at a later scheduled time.”
We’re both silent before Henry scoffs.
“So what you’re saying is that even in death, my father still hates me?”
Allen has the decency to look down before pulling something out of his briefcase and holding it out for Henry.
It looks like a handwritten envelope, in a stationary color that Jeoffry changed out two years ago.
Does that mean he wrote that letter to Henry years ago, right after disowning him?
And he expected us to have a child since then?
The man barely got it up when he was in the mood.
Henry grabs the envelope, staring at it sullenly. “One hundred grand is basically a penny to him. It’s honestly more insulting that he left me with that, instead of nothing at all. At least if it were nothing, I could understand that he held on to his disappointment in me to the end.”
I want to tell him that it’s not true, but I don’t think he’d appreciate the sentiment at this time.
I shift in my seat and then clear my throat. “And if there’s an heir?”
Both of their heads snap to me.
“What do you mean?” Allen asks with a frown.
I keep my eyes on him, ignoring Henry. “I’m pregnant.”
“What the fuck?” Henry spits out. They both zoom in to where I’m still clutching my glass, I hold it up.
“Ginger ale. You’re welcome to try or smell it if you don’t believe me,” I say with a nervous laugh. Sarah decided to serve this drink to me because of how much it looks like champagne to others to keep up appearances.
There’s suspicion bleeding into Allen’s eyes, and I give him a weary smile.
“As you know, we were on vacation when Jeoffry fell ill,” I explain, opening my clutch to pull out the sonogram from the doctor. “It’s incredibly early, so I mean…stuff can still happen. But if I make it to full-term, then there’s an heir?”
Allen takes it from me, glazing over the image with a furrowed brow. “We would have to do a paternity test.”
“Understandably,” I agree. I hadn’t thought about a DNA test, but that’s a later problem. We have months before that becomes an issue, and during that time, I hope they don’t freeze any of my larger accounts.
He nods. “If there’s nothing else, we can acknowledge you received the will and go back to the celebration of life.”
Henry and I both sign with tense smiles, and Allen lays a copy for each of us on the desk before leaving.
I stand, following him out before Henry can say anything, very aware he is following me as I head straight to my bedroom up the stairs.
I need a moment to myself, but I know he deserves some answers.