8. Genes and Heredity #2
“Whatever.” I needed to stop explaining about the past since, back then, I hadn’t been certain what I’d felt.
They’d been emotions I didn’t possess any context for at the time as an extremely sheltered thirteen-year-old.
And did it matter? I’d been a kid. He’d been a kid.
Kid-feelings fifteen years ago shouldn’t matter to grown adults.
I pressed on. “Anyway, last week?—”
“Wait.” She reached forward. “Do you still have feelings for him?”
I flinched back. “What? No! Like I said, we were kids.”
Her eyes narrowed and skated over me. “Are you sure? What did you feel when he contacted you?”
I rolled my eyes at myself. “Sure. Fine. Maybe I felt something like nostalgia. And I couldn’t help but notice that he’s extremely attractive.
Thus, I find him attractive. You’ve seen his photo online, right?
But I don’t know him now. How could I have relevant, real feelings for someone I don’t know? ”
This last rhetorical question seemed to resonate with Kaitlyn because she nodded like my logic passed muster. “That makes sense. Then, proceed. What happened last week?”
“Last week, Andreas showed up at my job, then at my apartment on Friday.”
Kaitlyn sat up straighter. “Wait, he’s here? In the city? I thought you said he called you.”
“No, I said he contacted me.” I then proceeded to tell her, in the most objective language I could find, about my recent interactions with the Kristiansens and Andreas’s offers: the meeting at the café, the sinister visit from Tobias, Andreas’s second visit and his last-resort plan to adopt me, complete with all the legal logic and strategic implications.
I watched Kaitlyn’s face run the full spectrum of disbelief, delight, then a little concern.
I concluded, “So, basically, if I allow him to adopt me, I will inherit controlling interest in Genetix. Unlike marriage, adoptions are extremely difficult to contest when it comes to inheritance, in part due to intestacy laws.”
“Does that count? Isn’t Oskar Kristiansen Norwegian?”
“Andreas has dual citizenship, but Oskar renounced his Norwegian citizenship. He’s a naturalized US citizen and his personal holdings fall under US law.
In the US, adoptions are extremely difficult to reverse, so there would be no going back.
And it’s not like this is unprecedented.
Adult adoption is a common practice used by estate lawyers as a way to circumvent established legacy trusts and limits on inheritance eligibility. ”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“I’m not sure.” I rubbed my forehead. “If he adopts me, then—legally—it severs ties with my own biological family, but that doesn’t matter. My grandfather and I don’t keep in touch and I have no one else left.”
She covered my hand with hers and gave it a squeeze.
“But, what happens if Andreas adopts you? Is that it? Or does he want anything else? Or is it just, like, he adopts you secretly, you sign the paperwork, you both get on with your lives until Oskar kicks the bucket? And then—BAM! Reveal at the will reading.”
“He didn’t mention anything about the logistics or additional contact, so I have to assume we sign the paperwork and move on, go back to being strangers.
” I met her concerned gaze. “Listen, I realize it makes sense. This is my chance. I don’t have anything to lose, but it feels like I do.
It feels like the price is—I don’t even know.
My dignity? Life as I know it? The space-time continuum? ”
Kaitlyn let out a slow whistle, the kind my grandmother would use when she decided to keep her thoughts—but not her judgy whistles—to herself. “This is a lot.”
Before either of us could process further, the nursery door creaked, and Martin, six-foot-three former varsity rower, strode into the room. He wore an NYC Club Crew sweatshirt and gym shorts, despite the temperature.
“He’s out,” he said to his wife, crossing directly to her and bending down to give her a kiss, then staring at her.
After a beat, Kaitlyn frowned at her husband. “Say hi to Sam. Don’t be rude.”
Martin gave Kaitlyn a small smile, then straightened, his smile disappearing into the ether. “Sam,” he said.
“Sandeke,” I said with an equivalent amount of warmth.
We weren’t frenemies, nor were we friends, nor were we enemies. More like, we tolerated each other’s existence for the sake of our mutual adoration for Kaitlyn.
I turned my attention back to Kaitlyn, planning to ask her to help me make a pro / con list, when Martin unexpectedly said, “Andreas’s strategy is solid.”
I blinked, stunned, and croaked out, “You were listening?”
“Your voice carries. And don’t worry. Obviously, I won’t tell anyone.
” He sat down behind Kaitlyn, encouraging her to lean back against him.
“You can seal and hide an adoption, but you can’t do the same thing with a marriage.
Adopting you is a much better strategy than getting married and trying to have a baby.
Anything could happen in nine months. Likewise, a sudden marriage between two people who haven’t seen each other in years, given your families’ history, is suspect.
Andreas’s brothers would start to dig and discover the addendum to the will, then make their own plans, which would include interfering with yours.
I doubt you want your child to be a perpetual target. ”
“Okay. Noted,” I said, reluctantly grateful for his rational assessment of the situation.
Martin Sandeke had no skin in the game, he certainly didn’t care about me or Andreas.
Thus, his impartiality was valuable. Not to mention the man was one of the most inherently shrewd businessmen I’d ever met.
“But, to be clear, I have not agreed to be adopted. Yet.”
Kaitlyn leaned over and stage-whispered, “But you want to.”
I considered this, then hunched forward with the weight of it.
“Maybe? I don’t know. It would fantastic to screw them over, but also .
.. really fucking weird to have Andreas as my adopted father .
” Just thinking about it gave me Flowers in the Attic heebie-jeebies, even though I knew it shouldn’t.
We weren’t biologically related, and adult adoption for inheritance purposes wasn’t unheard of.
Martin slid his arms around Kaitlyn, drawing her further back. “Let me ask you something, Sam. Do you trust Andreas?”
I didn’t even have to think. “Yes.”
Martin inspected me for a moment. “You don’t trust many people. Why him?”
I picked up my tea. “When we were kids, he always kept my secrets, and I’m the holder of his. Even when it cost him. Even after my dad died, even after the two families went thermonuclear.”
Kaitlyn snuggled back against her husband. “You know, Martin and you have that in common. He doesn’t trust people, either.”
I twisted my lips to the side. “Well, the trust is moot unless I can survive the psychological fallout of being the adopted daughter of my childhood ...” I struggled for a moment on how to best describe Andreas, finally settling on, “My childhood best friend.”
Martin lifted an eyebrow. “You went to law school, you know that’s not how the law sees it.
There was that famous case a few years ago about that man who adopted his girlfriend to avoid paying out in a civil suit.
The primary use of adult adoption is inheritance.
Many people adopt their significant other to get around legacy trust inheritance limitations or civil court rulings. ”
I lifted an eyebrow. “‘Many people’?”
“Fine. Many rich people with sizable trust funds. Happy?”
I nodded. “Proceed.”
“I’m just saying, an adult adoptee is not in the same category as a child adoptee. It’s basically paperwork. Don’t let the label psyche you out or keep you from taking what you want. Or, more accurately, taking what it sounds like you deserve.”
I already knew and logically understood the difference between adult and childhood adoption. Logic wasn’t the problem. Feelings were the problem.
Kaitlyn leaned back, her head on Martin’s shoulder, and looked at him. “You think Sam deserves Genetix?”
He nodded. “I mean, yeah. After what they did to your family? Why are you hesitating? Just do it. If it were me, I’d jump at the chance to take Genetix from the Kristiansens.”
Kaitlyn patted his hand. “I know you would, honey.” Then to me she whispered, “He just wishes he had more targets for his revenge plots.”
He glowered at his wife from behind her back while I fought a laugh.
“Anyway.” Martin gave his attention back to me.
“If you do go through with it, you’ll need a cover story.
Something to distract the rest of the Kristiansens from what’s really happening.
Your friend, Andreas, he needs to make it look like he’s taking some sort of action on the will addendum.
Otherwise, the brothers will sniff out the adoption eventually, even if the record is sealed. ”
I leaned forward, wondering if I should be taking notes. “Like what, exactly?”
Martin’s eyes lifted up and to the left. “Like ... once they discover the addendum to the will, Andreas should pretend to be trying to have a baby with someone. It doesn’t have to be you, just someone believable. Or, at the very least, get engaged. That’ll keep them distracted.”
I blinked. “That’s ridiculous. Didn’t you just say getting married and having a baby is the weaker strategy? And who would sign up to pretend to be Andreas’s fake—” I stopped myself before completing that sentence, because plenty of people would line up to be Andreas Kristiansen’s fake fiancée.
Just the thought made my stomach sour.
Luckily, Kaitlyn chimed in, “No, actually, that’s smart.
It is the wrong strategy, but that doesn’t mean they’ll question it.
If he makes it look like he’s getting together with someone just to have a baby, just to meet the requirements of the will, nobody will suspect that you’re already the first grandchild by adoption. ”
Martin nodded. “Exactly. Give the brothers a plausible red herring.”
I squinted at them both. “Is this a normal thing? Am I the only one who thinks this is bonkers?”
Kaitlyn smiled. “Sam, you called me yesterday to say you needed to talk. I assumed it was because you’d finally set the lab on fire.
But instead, you’re about to execute a legendary revenge plot against the men who ruined your family and become the heiress of a multinational corporation.
What is the actual downside? How could I not support this? ”
My chest felt weirdly tight, like my heart was expanding but also getting ready to collapse under its own weight. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet. I said I needed time to think.”
Martin shook his head. “No. You’ve already made your decision, Sam. You just need to convince yourself you’re okay with it.”
I thought about that. About the way I kept recalling the words of the will addendum like a prayer; the way I’d memorized the addendum after only reading it twice, every legalese loophole; how I’d researched sealed adoptions using a public library computer browser yesterday morning.
I thought about the way I’d spent my entire life pretending I didn’t care about what the Kristiansens did, when in fact I’d been quietly dreaming of this exact moment for fifteen years.
“Yeah,” I admitted, voice soft. “I want it. I want to make them suffer and lose everything, I want to take back my father’s company. I think I’d do almost anything. Even this.”
Martin nodded, the movement slow and deliberate. “From my own personal experience, here’s what I can tell you. It’ll be worth it, so long as you don’t lose something—or someone—more important to you in the process.”
I looked from him to Kaitlyn, then back at him. “You mean, like how you almost lost Kaitlyn when you went after your own dad?”
He shrugged, like this was old news. “Sometimes you don’t know what your priorities are until you’re forced to choose.”
“And you ultimately chose Kaitlyn over justice,” I supplied.
He nodded, looking not at all regretful.
Kaitlyn squeezed his hand. “Let’s be honest when among friends. You’re both talking about revenge, Sam. Maybe it’s also justice, but for you, it’s definitely the latter.”
“You’re right.” I shook my head and looked up to the ceiling. “Thank you. For not thinking I’m completely foolish, or irrational.”
Martin stretched his legs out on the large leather sofa. “I know you graduated from law school and passed the bar, but if you need a lawyer to draw up an adoption contract with Andreas, let me know. You can use someone from our legal department.”
My eyes widened with surprise at his offer.
He was correct. I’d graduated from law school and passed the bar, but that was four years ago, a career path abandoned after I realized how much I disliked confrontation and pointless arguments.
The only thing I enjoyed about law was the research aspect, and those jobs were being replaced by AI.
“Hey. Thanks, Martin. That’s ... nice of you.”
His expression flattened. “You act like I’m never nice to you.”
I didn’t respond to that, saying instead, “I guess I didn’t realize that all it would take for us to truly get along was a little revenge bonding.”
He scoffed, but he also sorta smiled.
Kaitlyn, her eyelids drooping tiredly, spoke around a yawn. “I’m not a huge fan of revenge in general, but we’re with you, Samwise. Whatever you decide.”
The rest of the evening blurred a little.
We sat, we drank tea, we talked about everything except the impending plot to upend the Kristiansen hold on Genetix.
We ate half a box of lemon cookies and made jokes about how Joey would someday destroy the world by inheriting his father’s penchant for revenge and his mother’s ridiculous IQ.
Eventually, I left, wrapped in a cloud of borrowed warmth and assurance.
On the walk home, I looked up at the dark autumn sky and tried to picture what my life might look like if I went through with it. If I said yes.
I thought about Andreas, about the look on his face when he’d asked me to be his daughter, about the way he’d seemed frustrated about it. Or maybe that was my imagination. Or perhaps I was the one who was frustrated.
Whatever. You’ve already decided , my brain whispered. You’re just stalling.
I stopped under a streetlamp, took out my phone, and stared at the new contact labeled simply Andreas. My thumb hovered over the call button.
Maybe tomorrow, I told myself, and slipped the phone back into my coat.
The wind was still biting, but I barely noticed.