Chapter 15
COLTON
I sat in the fancy office with a sense of trepidation, second-guessing the whole meeting until a middle-aged gentleman walked in.
I felt underdressed, my jeans, tee and sneakers casual compared to his expensive suit pants, button-down shirt and patent shoes.
“Thomas,” he said, extending his palm in introduction.
“Colton,” I replied, returning his offering with a solid handshake.
Thomas didn’t waste time, settling behind his mahogany desk as he slipped on stylish black glasses and placed a thick file on the surface between us.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Colton. You’re the last remaining Tems I am to meet.”
“I’m not a Tems.”
His probing gaze raised to mine, lips lifting into a smirk. “As you say.”
Thomas flipped the folder open, metaphorically turning the first page to my entire future.
He was patient with me, explaining things in detail and clarifying clauses that were all jumbled in legal terminology.
I guessed it was a strange scenario; a long-lost grandson randomly appearing from nowhere to see what he could claim after his grandmother’s death—someone he had met not long ago, and also a woman who remained well and truly living.
I felt awkward, hence why I didn’t tell anyone about the lawyer appointment or the nature behind it. When Eloise had dropped the news of her multi-million-dollar empire, I laughed, thinking it was a joke. Until her serious face soon sobered mine.
Despite her assurances, I remained sceptical, my trust issues rallying in full force. I didn’t know the woman. She could have been a scam artist, for all I knew. And that’s where my research came in.
When I left that diner, I became an undercover detective, scoping the net for information on the Tems. Unfortunately, I didn’t get far, my investigative skills amateur at best. But on the surface level, everything seemed to check out.
Sure, that type of money was transformative, but even more sinister was the thought of giving someone access to me who didn’t deserve it.
Which was the main reason behind setting up the meeting with Thomas. I needed answers from an external party, someone to validate or disapprove the outrageous claims—that’s exactly what they were. To be named as the sole beneficiary of a $40 million-dollar empire was outrageous.
Not according to Thomas, though, who didn’t so much as blink when running through the long list of assets, real estate and businesses.
“Mrs Tems has been thorough,” he said, leaning back in his sophisticated leather office chair. “So, if anyone tries to contest her will after her death, they’ll be in for a very difficult time. Honestly, it wouldn’t be worth the headache, effort or wasted resources.”
I gulped, completely overwhelmed. “Are there people who would want to? Contest the will, I mean.”
He shrugged, all nonchalant. “Hard to say. I’ve seen some pretty crazy stuff over the years. Money and power can bring out the worst in people. Grief, even more so.”
Don’t I know it.
He then asked me if I had any final questions, which I denied. My mind blanked out, overloaded at the prospect of Eloise telling the truth. She had, in fact, left everything to me. Every single fucking cent.
I tried to rein in my panic by sitting on my hands, concentrating on staying immobile. Don’t lose your shit… Not yet.
Just when I thought I’d succeeded in maintaining my composure, Thomas replaced the thick folder with a smaller one.
“And that brings us to the trust fund set up by your mother—”
What is he talking about?
Thomas sifted through the document. “From the records, you’ll gain full access to your account in four years’ time, at twenty-five years old, as the clause stipulates—”
Confusion and disbelief restricted my chest, causing my breathing to shallow. I was getting dizzy, the lack of oxygen distorting my thought process.
“Originally, your dad was adamant he didn’t want to touch the $2 million, so it seems you’ll receive the remainder—”
Wait. “Wait!” I shouted unintentionally. Thomas’ monologue came to an immediate halt, eyes widening in response to my outburst.
My tongue peeked out to wet my dry, tingling lips. “Rewind, please… Y-you mentioned my dad?”
“Yes. William Richards is the trustee of your account, which was set up by Bethany Richards, your mother…”
“Can I have a look?”
“Of course.” Thomas handed over the paperwork, the pages shaking in my jittery hands. Right there, in black and white, were both my parents’ signatures.
My brow furrowed. “My father didn’t set this up. Only my mother?”
“Correct.”
A black shadow danced along the edges of my vision, teasing that familiar hopelessness that I thought I’d banished.
Terrified, I swallowed against the scream threatening to climb up my throat. “When did my father find out about this trust?”
“Following your mother’s death. Over a year ago.”
“And what does this figure here mean?” I asked, pointing to the transaction record of the account.
“Your father withdrew $20,000 dollars—”
Everything slammed into me full force. A distinct keening echoed down to my very core as painful memories bombarded forth, each one beating in time with each torturous heartbeat.
Mum dying... Dad fucking Nikita in my childhood home...
Dad hugging Nikita in the funeral home...
Dad defending his whore against me... Dad’s countless voicemails with that demon humming in the background...
Dad sharing Mum’s favourite cake with the woman he cheated with...
Dad withholding information, keeping my trust fund a secret...
Dad taking money from my trust fund that didn’t belong to him...
I could feel myself tipping, my sanity wavering beneath the swell of anger and hurt. Each piece of history chipped away at my being, claiming more and more and more, until I finally snapped beneath the strain.
The shackles of grief fell away and were soon replaced by an unforgivable darkness, which I readily embraced—sinister, ominous, merciless.
William Richards had betrayed me for the last time.
I wanted him to feel what I felt. I wanted him to hurt as I hurt. I wanted him to regret ever turning his back on me, his one and only son.
I sped for the exit sign, racing out of town as fast as I could.
That place was toxic, fucking contaminated, all because the man I loved and hated the most lived there.
Thomas had been concerned for me when he realised the extent of my ignorance on the matter of my trust fund. He went full lawyer mode, threatening to take William down and block him from his role as trustee.
I stopped him. An insidious energy had been born, ravenous with the need for blood. I’d let William continue on, digging his hole until he couldn’t find a way out. Now that I knew the truth of everything, I held an advantage—one I was willing to abuse in order to get what I wanted.
As I entered the highway, distance stretching behind me, an inkling tickled at the back of my mind. A small spark of good, urging me to remember.
Light brown hair, creamy brown eyes, a dazzling smile and the scent of jasmine that still lingered on my shirt.
My heart called out for Charlotte, wanting me to go back, knowing at that exact moment, she was making dinner, waiting for me to return to her apartment.
We’d had the most glorious day at Serenity Residential Care Home. Meeting and spending time with the residents restored some faith in humanity for me. Yet, the most memorable moment was when she brought out a chocolate cake to share—the very same my mother adored.
I was unsure on how she knew, since I’d never shared that information with her.
At first, I’d thought it was a coincidence until Annette squeezed my knee beneath the table and mumbled, “In those six months your mother was a patient, Charlotte became very fond of Beth… In her own way, Charlotte loves her too.”
I had been speechless, unable to say a word, knowing I was on the verge of combusting into a sobbing mess. So, when Charlotte offered me a slice, I simply took her hand and kissed the back of it, hoping my simple gesture was enough to convey my gratitude.
I held on to that recollection, let it satiate me for a minute before resolve soon took over.
Bitterness and resentment were now my closest companions, not allowing room for anything else.
I’d vowed to protect her, to never hurt her, which I couldn’t fulfill if I remained a negative presence in her life.
Charlotte had already been through so much. She didn’t deserve my trauma on top of hers. And based on what I had planned, I doubt she’d support my need for revenge.
The road ahead was ugly and savage. Nothing that I wanted to subject her to.
So even though I could feel my soul screaming at me to stop, I tamped down that newfound love, those blissful moments, and replaced them only with vengeance, knowing I’d live with the regret forever.
An unbearable price to pay, but one that was worth it if she found peace outside of me.