Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 68006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Leif…how can you and I go on? How can we allow ourselves to be happy when Brindley died such a horrible death? All because of me?”
“Because it’s what Brindley would have wanted, Kelly. Just like it’s what Wolf and Ghost and the others wanted for me and for Buck. They didn’t get the chance at life, but we did. We have that chance, and we would be doing them all a disservice if we didn’t take it. If we didn’t vow to live our best lives, to be happy.”
“I just feel so much guilt.”
“I understand, baby. Believe me.”
She nods. “I do believe you, Leif. I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.”
“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, Kelly. But our pasts don’t define us. We make the present that we want. The future that we want.”
She nods and rises. She walks toward Brindley’s urn, trails her fingers over it. “Goodbye, Brindley. Wherever you are, I’m glad you’re finally at peace.” She turns. “I’m ready.”
Buck and Aspen are waiting for us in the small narthex, and Kelly and I walk down the aisle of the tiny chapel.
Before we get to Buck and Aspen, a young man waylays us out of nowhere. “Are you Ms. Kelly Taylor?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“I’m Fred Stein.” He hands Kelly a card.
“You’re an attorney?”
“Yes, ma’am. I represent the estate of Forrester Smith. You are his soul heir and beneficiary, according to his last will.”
Kelly drops her jaw.
“We’ll have a reading of the will tomorrow morning at nine a.m., my office. You should be there.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Apparently he wasn’t lying to you,” I say. “He did leave you his millions.”
“Quite a few millions at that,” Stein says.
“What about my mother?”
“What about her?”
“He said he was leaving it to both of us.”
“You’re the only one mentioned. You and his son, Ronald Smith. But Ronald Smith is dead and left no heirs, so it all goes to you, Ms. Taylor.”
She says nothing.
“You’re going to be a rich woman, Ms. Taylor. To the tune of a little less than nine hundred million.”
Kelly sways, but I steady her.
“You’re kidding me,” she says.
“I’m not kidding. Be there tomorrow, and we’ll get things moving through probate.”
“Mr. Stein?” I say.
“Yes?”
“This money that Mr. Smith left for Kelly.” I step closer to him and lower my voice. “Is it…legitimate money? I mean not laundered money?”
“I can’t make any opinion as to where the money originated. But this is generational wealth, Mister…”
“Ramsey. Leif Ramsey. I’m Kelly’s…fiancé.”
Kelly looks up at me, her eyes questioning. Then she smiles.
“Generational wealth?” I say. “He said he made his money in foreign currency.”
“He may have made some money there,” Mr. Stein says, “but the bulk of his wealth is generational. Mr. Smith was a member of the Hilton family.”
“Hilton Hotels?” I drop my jaw.
“No. Hilton copper.”
“I didn’t realize there was so much money in copper.”
“Copper is used for a lot of technology,” Stein says, “and you, Ms. Taylor, are a very wealthy woman.”
Kelly swallows. “I don’t want it. My father—Mr. Smith—he claims he was my father—was not a good man.”
“Be that as it may,” Stein says, “you are the sole beneficiary to his estate. If you don’t want it, you can give it all to charity. But it is yours, and I do need you to be there tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll be there,” I say.
Kelly leans against me.
Once Stein leaves, she looks up at me. “Fiancée? You want to marry me?”
“Yes, I do, Kelly.” I grin. “And not just for your money.”
She grimaces. “Good, because I’m giving it all away.”
“It’s yours, baby. You can do whatever you want with it. Come on. Let’s go to the wake. We’ll send Brindley off in style.”
43
KELLY
“What do you mean there’s no provision for me?” My mother stands, advancing toward Mr. Stein at the head of the small conference room table.
“You have the document in front of you, Ms. Taylor. The only two mentioned in the will are your daughter and Ronald Smith. Since Mr. Smith is deceased and left no heirs, everything goes to your daughter.”
My mother slams her hand down on the table. “But he promised me. He promised me it would be divided between Kelly and me.”
“Apparently he lied.”
“I’ll contest it.”
“Contest it all you want. But you’ll lose, and you’ll end up just having spent your money on attorneys’ fees.”
My mother turns to me then. “You’ll split it with me, won’t you Kelly?”
I scoff. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m your mother.”
I rise and meet my mother’s gaze. “Only by DNA. You were never a mother to me. You forced me to grow up when I was just a child. I was responsible for making meals when I was eight years old. Scrounging for food in our bare kitchen. What time I didn’t spend going to school or working around the house, I spent in the closet—locked in there by you. In complete and cold darkness. When I finally found something that made me happy—volleyball—you took that away. You kicked me out of the house when I turned eighteen. The middle of my senior year, Mom. I had nowhere to go, and I’m just lucky that someone took me in. So no… I’m not giving you any of the money.”