Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
He pauses, then adds: "Emerson has thirty days from the reading of this will to comply."
I stare at him, trying to process the words. Confusion first—what is he saying? Why are the words 'committed, loving relationship' coming out of his mouth? He can't…can he?
No. Wait a goddamn minute.
No, no, no.
Violet wouldn't, she couldn't have done this. My beloved grandmother forcing me to do something I don't want? Then, I feel her betrayal, cold spreading through my chest, stomach dropping to the floor. Finally, panic stirs within me—thirty days, I'm single, Adrian as judge.
My face goes hot, then ice-cold. My hands go numb. The brooch pin digs into my chest.
Violet. The one person who never pushed, never judged, never demanded I be anything but myself. And THIS is her parting gift? Manipulation disguised as inheritance? What the hell is going on?
"This is absurd!" Victoria jumps to her feet. "Ridiculous! Controlling!"
"Mom, wait—" Marcus reaches for her arm.
"She can't do this! It's emotional blackmail!"
I remain frozen, silent, drowning in shock. Across the table, Adrian sits, unmoved, still, his face could have been carved from marble for all the emotion it shows.
Victoria paces the length of the conference room, gesticulating wildly, her voice rising with each step.
"Outdated, patriarchal nonsense! As if being in a relationship determines your worth! I'll contest this. We'll contest this."
Marcus tries to calm her. "Mom, let's talk outside—"
Victoria whirls on Adrian. "You should be ashamed, letting her write this."
Adrian stands to his full height. "Mrs. Blake, I advised Mrs. Blake against this clause. She insisted."
Victoria doesn't listen, storming toward the door. I notice Adrian's jaw tighten—the only crack in his perfect composure. Huh, so he IS human. Who would have thought?
Marcus squeezes my shoulder. "Call me later. We'll figure this out."
I can't respond. Can't move. He follows Victoria reluctantly, glancing back at me with concern before the door closes with a soft click.
There goes my only support.
Sudden silence fills the room. Just Adrian and me, alone in the conference room. The hum of air conditioning seems louder now. The sound of traffic below continues, muffled through the glass. I stare at the will papers on the table. Adrian remains standing, waiting.
Numbness spreads through my limbs. My thoughts circle relentlessly: thirty days, relationship, Adrian judges authenticity. Impossible.
The betrayal settles deeper. Violet knew I was single. Chronically single. Didn't have casual relationships. Refused to try online dating. Married to my work. She KNEW.
And she put Adrian—cold, allergic-to-emotions, infuriating Adrian—as the gatekeeper. Why?
When I find the courage to speak, I glare at him. "How could you let her do this?"
Adrian sits back down and sighs, as though I'm just a petulant child who cannot understand. "Ms. Blake—"
I stand, unable to remain still. "Don't. Don't you, 'Ms. Blake', me. How could you let her write something this manipulative? Does it even make sense to you?"
"I advised against the clause. Strongly. She insisted it remain."
"Why? Why would she—" My voice cracks, and I hate it.
"She said you needed, in her words, 'a push to take a chance on love.'"
"A push? This is emotional blackmail! I know it, you know it, even that damn pen you're holding knows it!"
"The terms are legal and binding. I've verified—"
"I don't care about the legality! This is" —I run a hand through my hair, searching for words— "controlling. Outdated. It's—"
"It's what she wanted."
I step closer, anger building with each word, and jab an accusing finger at him. "You don't get it. You couldn't possibly understand."
One eyebrow raises a little, and he leans back in his chair. "Enlighten me."
"That library is—was—" I struggle to articulate what it means, and I only get angrier at the sight of Adrian looking so calm and unfazed. "It's where I fell in love with stories, with books, where I learned how stories have the power to make us feel so many things at once. Violet gave me that. And now she's using it as leverage to force me into some fairy tale she invented?"
Adrian pauses. "She was concerned about you."
I laugh bitterly. "Concerned. Right. You probably told her I was some tragic spinster—"
"I told her nothing of the sort. She reached her own conclusions."
My voice rises. "Based on what? That I'm not in a relationship? Maybe I don't want one. Maybe I'm perfectly happy alone."
His expression remains measured, and I try to resist the urge to shake him. "Are you?"
"What?"
"Happy alone. Are you?"
The question throws me. "Oh, how dare y-you. T-that's none of your business."
He tilts his head. "Actually, it's exactly my business now. I'm tasked with evaluating your relationship's authenticity."
My anger shifts to something sharper, and I have to clench both hands to avoid pummeling him with my fists. It won't hurt him, for sure, but whatever. It's the thought that counts. "You. Of all people. You're going to judge whether I'm in love? By what standard, huh? You seem like someone whose strongest emotion is satisfaction when his clients break down in this room."