CHAPTER 47
Krusk
The County Probate Court was exactly what I expected of it. It smelled like a mix of old paper, burnt coffee and bureaucracy. There were bright fluorescent lights buzzing above me, pinging my sensitive ears and threatening to flicker at the worst possible moments.
Savla and I stepped up to the front desk, tusks catching in the harsh light.
The folder in my hands held the original will, carefully preserved, and the envelope in Savla’s grip contained the filed copy.
The one that smelled suspiciously of forgery.
The helpful elf had been able to print a copy from the online database they had access to.
The clerk, a human who clearly hadn’t seen orcs outside of court sketches, blinked.
“Name?” he asked, voice clipped.
I leaned forward, tusks bristling slightly, my green skin tense but controlled.
“We’re here regarding the estate of Jonas Harrington. We need to compare the will filed with the court to this original copy.”
The clerk raised an eyebrow but passed a stack of forms across the counter. “You’ll have to request a viewing in the reading room.”
Savla and I walked down the hall, the echoes of our shoes bouncing with purpose.
When we got to the line of reading rooms, they were all empty.
Stepping into the first one, Savla set up the documents side by side on a plain wooden table.
The fluorescent light made the ink of the will shimmer oddly—off in tone, almost too smooth in places, like it had been tampered with.
“This looks… too perfect,” Savla muttered, scanning signatures and witness lines. “Compare the dates. The notary’s name is slightly off, and this clause—,” he tapped a paragraph, “wasn’t in the original.”
I leaned over, my palms braced on the table’s edge, eyes narrowing as I squeezed, fury flooding me. “I knew it. The uncle’s fingerprints are all over this. He changed the entire will to give himself everything and left her and Grandma nothing.”
Savla nodded, considering the document some more. “Good thing we brought the original. Now we have proof. This goes to the clerk, and the court can’t ignore it.”
I let out a low rumble of satisfaction, half frustration, half excitement. “Justice is bureaucratic,” I muttered. “Do you think we can get this done faster? I want her and Grandma moving back to their home.”
Savla tapped on the forged will, shrugging. “This could be all that we’ll need to get the probate overturned and then re-file. Let’s talk to them about how quickly it could happen. Once it’s proven that this is a forgery, I’m hoping they’ll get him out of the property.”
“Or we can,” I growled, grinning at him. He tried to hide his smirk, but I saw it. He was just as much of a troublemaker as I was, but he liked to keep it buried.
For a moment, between the flickering lights, the stacks of documents, and the whisper of ancient paper, I allowed myself a small, smug grin. My Zemar was going to get her inheritance back, and I was going to gift it to her.
After taking detailed pictures of each with my cell phone as back-up proof if needed, we returned to the clerk’s desk, the original will in one hand, the forged copy in the other. My tusks caught the fluorescent glare as I set them down carefully—deliberate, controlled, but undeniably imposing.
The clerk, already weary from a morning of stamps, sighs, and people asking for “just a peek,” blinked at us. “Uh… can I help you?”
I leaned forward, voice low but firm, a rumble that made the pens on the desk vibrate. “Yes. You can start by looking at these two documents side by side. One is the original. The other…” I tapped the forged copy, “…is a work of fiction by my mate’s uncle.”
The clerk swallowed. “I—I’m not sure what you mean…”
Savla jumped in, calm and efficient. “The notarization is incorrect, witness names are inconsistent, and a key clause has been altered. The estate as filed is invalid.”
I rested a massive hand on the counter, a scowl making its way across my face, not above intimidating the tiny human. “We’re asking you to flag this immediately. This will can’t proceed as filed.”
The clerk, now wide-eyed, shuffled papers. “Flag… yes… I can… uh…” He fumbled with a stamp and a sticky note. “I’ll need to call the supervisor…”
I let out a low chuckle, almost amused despite the tension. “Take your time. We’ll get everything else settled once you get the right will back where it belongs.”
Savla grinned, his fangs gleaming in the fluorescent lights. “We bury bodies, too.”
The clerk blinked again, probably wishing he’d never worked a day in probate. “I… I’ll submit a report. The court will review it. You… you should leave the official copies here for the record.”
I carefully handed over the forged copy while keeping the original close. “Done. But let me make this very clear. This is evidence. If anyone tries to move this estate forward using the forged document, I will personally ensure the court knows exactly what happened.”
The clerk nodded rapidly, eyes wide. “Understood. Completely.”
I turned to my brother as we walked out of the cramped office. “Next step?” I asked, voice rumbling softly.
He grinned, already relaxing now that the process was underway. “We wait for the court to acknowledge the evidence, then get the probate officially corrected. Meanwhile, your mate’s inheritance is safe.”
I allowed myself a small, rare grin—a flash of satisfaction that was part triumph, part possessive pride. I might be living in a new world, full of papers and bureaucrats, but when it came to protecting the ones I cared about? That remained just the same.
My brother clapped me on the shoulder. “Not bad. You kept your cool… mostly.”
I let out a low rumble, half amusement, half disbelief. “Mostly? I’m always calm.”
“Right,” he smirked. “Except for the part where you almost murdered the clerk.”
I growled softly, more to myself than anyone else. “I have a feeling he was going to move too slowly for my taste if I gave him the chance. After everything Emma’s gone through, I don’t want her to have to wait longer because of inefficiency. I won’t let that happen.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I think she might like that about you.”
I froze for half a beat, a flicker of warmth and pride stirring. “She… does,” I admitted quietly. Then I shook it off, voice rumbling. “She loves a lot of things about me.” I sent a wink his way.
He chuckled. “You really are ridiculous sometimes.”
“Ridiculous?” I echoed, voice low and teasing. “Protective. Focused. Tall. The most handsome of our brothers.” I grinned—barely. “Ridiculous is optional. It’s her least favorite of my good traits.”
We laughed quietly, careful not to draw attention from the other courthouse visitors.
As we walked down the hallway, papers clutched in one hand and determination in the other, I allowed myself a tiny, private growl. The estate might have been tangled in forged documents, but my mate’s inheritance—and her—were untouchable.
Next, I would be dealing with her uncle. And that fight was going to be a big one.