Chapter 3B – Nicholas
NICHOLAS
This is about to be the best fucking day of my life.
I was claiming it.
Everything this morning so far had been perfect—down to my catered five-star breakfast, to my scenic ride to work.
I stepped into headquarters in my favorite Tom Ford black suit and strolled straight toward the elevators.
Per my request, every employee (except Jenna) was off today, so I could enjoy a quiet building and toast at night to finally becoming a billionaire—no clauses, no strings, no more waiting.
When I stepped into the boardroom, a team of suits was already seated, and Jenna was walking toward me with a binder.
“Good morning, Mr. Saint.” She smiled.
“Miss Dawson.” I tried my best not to inhale her sweet and tempting perfume, but it was no use. I could never get enough of her scent.
“This is Mr. Jenkins and his team from the firm,” she softly uttered their names. “They’re ready when you are.”
“Thank you.” I stole one last glance at her before focusing my attention on a salt-and-pepper-haired man who was walking toward me.
“Are we ready to proceed with the verification process?” He extended his hand. “Or are there a few more staffers you want present for this?”
“No, it’s just us,” I said, taking a seat next to Jenna. “We can start now.”
“Very well, then, sir.” He signaled to one of his members, and she stood up and closed the blinds. Another member pulled down a screen and turned on the projector.
Within seconds, four words appeared on screen.
What Is an Inheritance?
“Okay, let’s start from the beginning of why we’re here today,” Mr. Jenkins said. “We’ll start with some basic definitions, then we’ll talk about the law, and then we’ll get to the fun part.”
“Me receiving the check?” I quipped.
“No, that’s not until much later.” Mr. Jenkins smiled. “The fun part is the signing process. Anyway, let’s now look at the top five definitions of what an inheritance is, according to various dictionaries, shall we?”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…
For some reason, five hours had passed, and I still didn’t have my inheritance check in my hand.
I wasn’t sure why Mr. Jenkins felt the need to read out every single page of the inheritance terms before making me sign my initials, but at the rate we were going, it’d be well into the new year before anything was finished.
Not only that, but the steady tick of my wall clock filled the every gap of silence, loud enough to feel personal.
“Sign again right there, Mr. Saint,” he said, pointing to another line. “And place your inked thumbprint there.”
I obliged, holding back a deep sigh as he flipped another page.
“Ah!” he exclaimed. “Well, that’s the end of the first phase of verification. Now, all we need is your marriage license so we can make a copy, and then we’ll be on our way to the courthouse.”
“My what?”
“Your marriage license.” He smiled. “You know, for the ‘consummation clause.’”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The consummation clause, sir.”
Is he saying condensation? “I’m not quite following…”
“It’s on page fifty-three,” Jenna whispered to me, flipping the pages. “Your father’s estate added it two years ago, remember?”
No… “You’ve only been working with me for two years?”
“Three, but it feels like twenty.”
“Fair enough.” I leaned forward as she pointed to the clause. I skimmed it, seeing nothing of importance to me. My jaw tightened as I leaned back in my chair, irritation burning just beneath the surface. “What day can I expect the deposit?”
Mr. Jenkins furrowed his brow. “I can’t move forward with that part until after you prove that you’re married, sir. Otherwise, we’ll just return next year on your birthday to handle this.”
“I need you to start speaking English.”
“Right here, sir.” He pointed to the clause I’d just read. “Do you see that last line?”
“‘The heir will receive the inheritance on his fortieth birthday,’” I said. “That’s all I need to read.”
“Given that all specifications are met and that the consummation clause—i.e., him being married—is verifiably true.”
I glanced down at the sheet again. The words marriage and married weren’t in my vocabulary, so that was probably why I hadn’t noticed them.
The estate never mentioned shit about a new clause directly to me…
“See?” Mr. Jenkins said. “Now, I do see that you’re wearing a ring on your left hand, so I’m assuming you do have a special someone.”
Jenna snorted, but then she picked up my cup and pretended to drink the coffee.
“I don’t like discussing my personal life in front of strangers,” was all I could say. “And I don’t typically carry every license I own around.”
“Well, uh, do you happen to know what county you got married in? I can pull it up that way.”
“My wife probably does.” I refused to let this bullshit get in the way. “She’s, uh… not alive right now, but—”
“Your wife is dead?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“You said she’s not alive.” He leaned forward. “Did I mishear you?”
“Yes, you did. What I said was that she’s…” I shook my head. “I can have that to you with a bit more time, I’m sure.”
“Sounds great.” He smiled. “I’m off after today for the holidays, and I’m sure you have huge holiday plans, so my partner Kyle will give you a call about verifying the marriage license by the end of the week, if that’s alright.”
“Perfect.”
“I’m sure we have nothing to worry about with a man of your stature, but—” He paused. “Given the amount of money at stake, we’ll have to do our due diligence at every turn, no matter what it takes to make sure your father’s wishes are being met.”
“That’s exactly what I want, too.” I seethed behind my smile, escorting him to the door.
The moment I was certain he and his delusional team were locked away on the elevator, I looked at Jenna.
“This is the part where you give me a solution, Miss Dawson.”
She gave me a blank stare.
“Say something, anything.”
“I don’t think you’re getting that inheritance anytime soon.”
“Something helpful.”
“Your tie is crooked.”
“Funny.” I held back a groan. “How tight is that clause they mentioned?”
“Ironclad.”
“Not a single loophole?”
“Not unless you’re widowed.”
“Do you know any women who’ve died recently?” I asked. “I can get someone to backdate a marriage license.”
She shut her briefcase and pushed her chair up to the table. “I’m going to go get lunch.”
“No, wait.” I was determined to beat this nonsense a different way. “Call me the top notary in the city and have him here within the hour.”