Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Trent snarls. “I don’t give a shit what you think.” He thrusts my chest, but I barely sway. I’m not letting him get an inch farther. He shies from the ruinous look in my eye. “JAKE!” he shouts. “Where’s the fucking document?!”
“Already faxed to the lawyers,” Jake says calmly. “It’s done, man. You can’t reverse this.”
Trent blows back like he’s been sucker punched. “No…no…” His hands fly to his head while his mind reels over the crumbling state of his reality. His life has been slowly disintegrating brick by brick for months, but he’s only just realizing he’s underneath the wreckage.
“This has to be a prank.” He nods to himself and laughs shrilly, his phone squeezing in his fist. “Okay, which one of you fucking losers decided this would be funny? You?” He points his phone at Jake. “Nice try, baby brother.”
Jake crosses his arms. “I didn’t prank you, Trent.”
“Sure, right, yeah. Just cut it out.” Trent shifts his weight uneasily. “I see right through this. You got some weirdo to prank-call me and tell me my wife’s no longer the beneficiary of the Wolfe fortune.”
“What?” Hailey perks up in fake confusion.
“It’s a lame prank, Hay-Hay,” Trent assures her. “That money is still yours.” He mouths to Jake, Mine, with a conceited prickish smile.
I’ve dealt with too many marks who can’t accept they’ve been fooled. He’s far from the fucking first.
Jake raises his hands. “I have no idea who called you. I don’t know anything about this.”
Accurate.
Jake has stayed as far away from the legal holdings of the Wolfe estate as possible. It makes him more innocent in what’s just occurred.
“I have an idea who it was,” I chime in, staring at Trent as he slowly spirals toward his fucked reality again. “The trustee of the Wolfe estate, I’m guessing.”
Trent is barely breathing.
I continue. “They called me earlier this morning and said a second trust document was found in a locked safe at Stonehaven. A newer one. Apparently, Varrick changed his mind on who he’d like to inherit his wealth upon his death. Signed, notarized, and legally valid—he’s given everything to the other Thornhall.” I consume his slow-building rage. “To me.”
This is all true.
I was there with Varrick and a lawyer when he legally made me the beneficiary of his trust. A second document that would supersede the one he had legally filed to name Hailey heir. This was all a part of the Koning job.
The Heir of Nothing.
Only, Varrick was supposed to be here to see this part. He was supposed to be alive to still reap all the benefits of the Wolfe fortune and be able to legally change his mind once again and take it away from me. But he’s not here.
And I’m the last Wolfe standing.
“You?” Trent puffs out a stilted laugh. “How convenient. A second document. In a mysterious locked safe.”
“Not a mysterious safe. It was in Varrick’s office.”
“No, I would’ve—”
“You would’ve known about it?” I cut him off. “Because you’ve visited Stonehaven so many fucking times since Varrick died.”
Trent seethes quietly.
I raise my brows. “You refused to rifle through the mansion because of the arduous five-minute boat ride to and from the island.” Ego. Hubris. Laziness. Never thinking any harm can come to him. Never thinking the rug will be ripped from under his feet because he’s been protected by Mommy his entire fucking life.
He slides two hands through his hair, disheveling the strands as he pulls them back. “No, you did this.” His angry finger returns to me. “You planted it. Whoever found it—”
“The trustee of the estate found it.”
“Hay-Hay!” Trent yells. “Come here!”
“Hailey, don’t,” Jake says.
“Wife,” Trent threatens between gritted teeth.
I get in his face. “Speak to my sister like that again and you will be choking on this lawn and eating my fucking shoe.”
Trent doesn’t pry his attention off my piercing glare, but he yells to Hailey, “Did you let the trustee of the estate into Stonehaven?!”
“No, you did,” she says. “Don’t you remember? He asked if he could go through Varrick’s office. You said yes.”
Trent is confused. He’s unsure if he did approve this or not. He did. Flippantly. After two glasses of whiskey and a line of coke. Oliver had been there.
“It’s real,” I tell Trent. “The new trust document. You can call the lawyer who notarized it. The trustee has his number.”
He does call him. This isn’t a scenario where we need Everett Tinrock to pose as a lawyer and fake a notary. Though, we have done that plenty of times before.
Trent speaks to a real lawyer, who assures him this is all legal and that Varrick simply had a change of heart. When Trent gets off the call, he smears a hand down his mouth.
“You want to legally dispute it? Fine, but you won’t win,” I say. “It’s not forged. Varrick was of sound mind when he signed it. And the entire town knows he was wavering between me and Hailey, and in the end, he chose me.”