“We’ve come to claim our rightful share of your father’s inheritance. Pack your bags and leave, now,” he demanded.
I smiled just as my lawyer walked in behind her.
The morning dew still clung to the roses when I heard the click of expensive heels on my garden path. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. Only one person would dare wear Louboutins to trample my father’s most treasured garden.
—Madeline? —her voice dripped with feigned sweetness—. I see you’re still playing with the dirt.
I continued pruning my father’s white roses, the ones he’d planted for my wedding day. The wedding that ended in divorce papers and my ex-husband running off with the woman who was now chasing after me.
“Hi, Haley.”
“You know why I’m here,” he said, approaching, his shadow falling on the flowerbed. “The reading of the will is tomorrow, and Holden and I think it’s best to talk… civilly.”
I finally turned around, wiping my dirt-covered hands on my gardening apron.
“There’s nothing to talk about. This is my father’s house.”
“It was, his inheritance,” Haley corrected, her perfectly painted red lips curving into a mocking smile. “And since Holden was like a son to Miles for fifteen years, we believe we’re entitled to our share.”
The pruning shears in my hand suddenly felt heavier.
“The same Holden who cheated on his daughter with his secretary? That Holden?”
“Ancient history,” Haley said, waving her well-manicured hand dismissively. “Miles forgave him. They kept playing golf every Sunday until…” She paused dramatically. “Well, you know.”
My father’s death was still fresh, a wound that hadn’t even begun to heal. He had been gone barely two weeks before, and there was that woman, that vulture, circling what she thought was easy prey.
“My father wouldn’t have left Holden anything,” I said firmly, standing up straight. “He might have been many things, but he wasn’t stupid.”
Haley’s fake smile faltered.
“We’ll see. Your brother, Isaiah, seems to think differently.”
The mention of my brother sent a chill down my spine. We hadn’t spoken since Dad’s funeral, where he’d spent more time comforting Holden than his own sister.
“Have you spoken to Isaiah?”
“Oh, honey,” Haley said, leaning closer and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We’ve done more than talk. He’s been very… helpful.”
I gripped the pruning shears tighter, remembering Dad’s words from years ago: Roses need a firm hand, Maddie, but never a cruel one. Even the sharpest thorns have a purpose.
“Get off my property, Haley,” I said quietly. “Before I forget my manners.”
She burst out laughing; it sounded like breaking glass.
“Your property? How sweet. This house is worth millions, Madeline. Did you really think you could keep it all for yourself? Playing house in Daddy’s mansion while the rest of us get nothing.”
“My father built this house brick by brick,” I replied firmly, despite the anger boiling inside me. “He planted every tree, designed every room. This isn’t about money. It’s about legacy.”
“Legacy?” Haley scoffed. “Wake up, Madeline. It’s all about money. And tomorrow, when that will is read, you’ll learn it the hard way.” She turned to leave, but stopped at the garden gate. “Oh, and you might want to start packing. Holden and I will need at least a month to renovate it before we move out.”
As her heels clicked away down the path, I looked at the roses, their white petals now speckled with dirt where my trembling hands had crushed them. Dad always said white roses represented new beginnings, but all I saw was red.
I pulled out my phone and dialed the only person I knew would understand.
“Aaliyah? It’s me. Haley just paid me a visit. Yes, she’s exactly as bad as we thought. Can you come over? There’s something about the will I need to discuss with you.”
My best friend’s voice was firm and reassuring. “
I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t worry, Madeline. Your father was smarter than you think.”
As I hung up, I saw a small envelope peeking out from under one of the rosebushes, its corner damp with dew. The handwriting was unmistakably my father’s, and it was addressed to me. I took it with trembling hands, wondering how long he had been waiting there, hidden among the thorns. The paper felt heavy, as if it carried more than just words.
“Well, Dad,” I whispered, turning the envelope over in my hands. “Looks like you left me one last surprise.”
Aaliyah arrived exactly on time, carrying the legal briefcase in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
“I figured we’d need it,” she said, raising the bottle as she entered Dad’s office.
I still had the unopened envelope, sitting on the edge of my father’s leather armchair. The room smelled of his pipe tobacco and old books, a scent I wasn’t ready to lose because of the renovations Haley was promising.
“Haven’t you opened it yet?” Aaliyah pointed at the envelope, putting down her briefcase.
“I wanted to wait until you arrived,” I said. “After what Haley said about Isaiah helping them…”
“Open it,” Aaliyah insisted, pouring two generous glasses of wine. “Your father was very specific about certain things that needed to be revealed at certain times.”
I jerked my head up.
“What do you mean?”
She handed me a glass.
“Open the letter, Madeline.”
With trembling fingers, I broke the seal. Inside was a single sheet of paper and a small, ornate key.
“Dear Maddie,” I read aloud, my father’s voice echoing in my mind. “If you’re reading this, then someone has already made a move on the inheritance. Knowing human nature as I do, I’m guessing it’s Haley. She always reminded me of a shark: all teeth and no soul.”
Aaliyah let out a giggle into her glass.
—“The enclosed key opens the bottom drawer of my desk. Inside you’ll find everything you need to protect what’s yours. Remember what I taught you about chess: sometimes you have to sacrifice a pawn to protect the queen. Love, Dad.”
I looked at Aaliyah, who was already moving toward the desk.
“Did you know about this?”
“I helped prepare him,” he admitted, gesturing for me to use the key. “Your father came to see me six months ago, right after his diagnosis. He knew exactly how it would all play out.”
The drawer opened with a soft click. Inside were a thick manila envelope and a USB drive.
“Before you look at that,” Aaliyah said, sitting on the edge of the desk, “there’s something you should know about tomorrow’s reading of the will. Your father added a codicil three days before he died.”
—A what?
—An amendment to the will. And believe me, it changes everything.
I scattered the contents of the manila envelope onto the table. Photos fell out, dozens of them: Haley meeting with someone in a dark parking lot; Holden walking into a law office that wasn’t Aaliyah’s; bank statements; printouts of emails.
—Did Dad send them to investigate?
“Even better,” Aaliyah said, her smile sharp. “She had them followed. That USB drive contains videos of Haley trying to bribe your father’s nurse for information about his will, two days before he died.”
My hands trembled as I took one of the photos.
“Is that… Isaiah meeting with Haley?”
“Three weeks before your father died,” Aaliyah confirmed. “But look at his face in the next photo.” In the second one, my brother was leaving the meeting with a disgusted expression. In his hand, he was holding what looked like a check.
“He kept the check as proof,” Aaliyah explained. “He took it straight to your father. That’s when Miles knew he had to act fast.”
—But Haley said that Isaiah was helping them.
“Your brother has been playing a dangerous game, Madeline. Giving them just enough information to keep them trusting, while helping your father gather evidence of his conspiracy.”
I slumped back in the chair, my mind racing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Haley had to show her hand first,” Aaliyah said, pulling some papers from her briefcase. “Tomorrow, when I read the will, Haley and Holden will think they’ve won. The initial reading will give them a significant portion of the inheritance.”
