Heiress in Disguise

ALEX’s POV

Everything appeared to be swirling. I dropped the food on the table and grabbed a glass of water, drinking it all in one go. When I still wasn’t satisfied, I asked the lady handing them out for more. She gave me another.

It was useless. Everything just seemed to get caught in my throat.

“Can we get on, now?” Percy said impatiently when even after a full beat has passed and the attorney still hasn’t said anything, he was just staring at me choking.

When my lightheadedness finally left, I looked around at the table. No one, not even the old man who had taken me here appeared to be shocked by the words. They all knew… I think. And they… just don’t care?

The old man offered me a handkerchief and I took it, wiping my mouth. I don’t know what to think of this. I just sat there for the next five minutes staring down at the oak table. I didn’t even listen to the rest of the will, apart maybe from all the sharp objections once the part about the charities were read.

“…Children’s Hospital, and the Harrington Foundation for the Arts, I leave endowments totaling twenty-five billion dollars—” A chorus of outraged objections sounded throughout the entire room. “—to be divided among them as specified in the attached documents. It is my wish that these institutions continue to thrive long after I am gone.”

“We get a measly five million while some lousy charity gets billions?!” Claudine’s outburst rang through the room and she stood up, her chair clattering on the floor behind her.

Cassiopeia was the next to react. “Well, at least you get five! I only have three!”

“Goddamn that old man.” Hugh gritted his teeth, putting out the cigar he’d been holding on the wooden table. “I knew he’s going to fucking screw us up. He’s crazy, that’s what he is!”

“Are you sure, attorney, that this is final? I’m sure he has an old draft somewhere with even better conditions.”

The lawyer looked up at Claudine, a polite smile on his face. “I’m not done yet. There are still a few lines I have yet to finish reading.”

“Well, then, get on with it!” Percival yelled, slamming his fist into the table.

The lawyer looked startled. He scrambled for the paper and fixed his glasses, clearing his throat for the nth time. “Where was I… uh, right.” He straightened. “To Mr. Henry Caldwell, my trusted advisor and the newly appointed Chairman of the Board of Harrington Group, I leave a personal trust of five million dollars annually, as well as the legal guardianship of my grandchild, Ivy Alexandria, until such a time as she reaches the age of twenty-one and is deemed capable of managing her inheritance.”

There goes my name again. And there goes all of their heads and piercing looks. Among everyone in the table, only four of them didn’t give me any dirty looks.

Claudine stood up again, interrupting the attorney. “You mentioned that…” She turned to me, “…the girl gets an inheritance?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

Everyone seemed to lean in apart from Henry. Even I was curious. I mean, I ain’t expecting much anyway—if I was even expecting something. Maybe a couple grand and I would happily go back to Chicago. I wouldn’t be rich but hell, I’d survive.

The attorney flipped to the next page. He gulped. ““And now, we have come to the final provision of this will — the matter of my granddaughter, Ivy Alexandria Carter. Although you have not spent much time with this family, Ivy, know that I have always intended you to inherit more than a name.”

I looked away. Everyone in here seemed to be anxious about something. They all looked like they could bounce off the walls at any minute. Even Cassiopeia who didn’t seem like a nail-biter to me was near to cutting off half her nails with all the nervous biting.

“Accordingly, after the allocations already specified in my previous statements, the residue and remainder of my estate, which is calculated at approximately four hundred seventy-two billion dollars, shall vest solely in you. This inheritance includes all remaining assets: liquid and illiquid, controlling interests, accounts, and properties not otherwise specified.

By this provision, you inherit the greater part of my estate, along with the privileges and responsibilities it carries. And to the family gathered here, know that while the distributions differ, my intent has always been the same — that each of you find purpose beyond what wealth alone can provide.”

The attorney finished reading and closed the folder with Reginald Harrington’s will and testament in it. Everyone was silent. No one even dared move.

If earlier, there were loud objections from the family, now there was only silence. And it wasn’t even a good kind of silence. It was heavy, almost charged.

“You mean…” It was Henrietta who broke the silence. “…this girl, whoever she is… she’s getting it all?”

The attorney nodded. “Yes. And this is supposed to be effective immediately.”

More silence followed. The vein on Hugh’s neck looked like it was about to explode. Cassiopeia was just staring blankly at the table. Claudine snatched the paper from the attorney and started reading feverishly across pages.

When I looked directly in front, Blaire was already staring at me.

“Did you do this?” she asked.

My eyebrows immediately creased. “What?”

“The will. Admit it,” She stood up and circled the table, “when my grandfather was on his deathbed, you conned your way into his will.”

“What are you talking about?”

Henrietta’s head shot up. “Yes! Blaire could be right. I mean, we’ve never even met this girl. What if she’s a con artist? Is Ivy Alexandria even her real name?”

“Now, now!” The attorney tried breaking it up. “We have documents that prove her identity. She couldn’t have been a con artist—”

“But wasn’t she just arrested?” It was Percival who said that. “How are you all so sure she wasn’t conning you?!”

I stood up, pulling away from Blaire who looked ready to pounce. “Listen, alright?! I didn’t even want to be here. You were the ones who dragged me into this mess.”

Claudine stood up, too, and was about to come near me but one of the guards barred her.

“What are you doing?” she asked the men. “Get out of my way!”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. But we’re here to protect the heir.”

“The heir?! HA!” Percival burst out of his chair, too, his finger pointed at me. “You’re calling this girl an heir?! She’s from an orphanage for fuck’s sake! I’m sure one of you messed up big time and switched the documents or something.”

Hugh shook his head at this, running his hands through his hair multiple times. “That’s it. I’m calling my attorney. I’m sure there’s some way we can change this.”

“There isn’t,” Henry said.

The room went silent again.

“What do you mean there isn’t?”

The attorney stood up. “Mr. Caldwell is correct. The firm was directed to run a thorough review of the will and it doesn’t have any loopholes.”

“But my poor father could be sick when he wrote this!”

“Or he could have been blackmailed.”

The attorney smiled at both Claudine and Cassiopeia’s attempts. “He made this himself a year ago in the entire firm’s presence. Before doing so, he was subjected to a full psychiatric and medical evaluation. I assure you, he did not have any sickness when he wrote this.”

“But—”

“If you have any objections to the document, feel free to contact your attorneys. I, myself, will assist them willingly if they do turn up at the firm.” And with that, he closed his briefcase and left.

I was ushered by the head of security, Thomas Hale, out of the room where his men still struggled to keep the rest of the family away from me. Blaire almost got ahold of my arm but Peter, her father, managed to drag her away.

We went through the same hallway again. I glanced at the portraits. My supposed ancestors stared back.

“Let’s go,” Henry said when he noticed that I was slowing down, staring at the last portrait.

I turned to him. “Where are we going now?”

“To your estate.”

The moment we walked out of the building, a crowd of reporters with their microphones and cameras boxed us in. There was so much flashing lights that I’m pretty sure my eyes were closed in every single one of their photos.

“Miss Carter! Miss Carter! Here! Look here!”

“Is it true that you’re Reginald Harrington’s grandchild?”

“The reading of the last will was today. What can you say about it, Miss Carter?”

“Miss Carter! Is it true that you got arrested?”

Hale immediately blocked the cameras facing toward me, his men pushing the paparazzi to the side, making way for us. Once we descended the stairs leading to the sidewalk below, I was steered into a black SUV. Henry sat beside me and ordered for the driver to drive away.

I was still in shock.

“Good,” Henry said and I turned to him.

“What was?”

“Your response to the media.”

I blinked, my lips pulling into a slight frown. “But I didn’t respond.”

“Exactly. That’s what you need to do when facing these people. Do not speak unless absolutely necessary.”

Now, my attention was pulled into what just happened. “How did they find out that fast?”

“About your arrest or about the will?”

“Both.”

“They’re the paparazzi, dear. They’ll slither their way into the tiniest crevices if it means they’ll get the story out first. Nothing ever truly stays a secret around here.”

I just nodded at Henry’s explanation, my eyes wandering down the street. I’ve had a lot of questions about why I was dragged here in the first place but now that I’ve got my answers, it feels like I’m forming a million more.

Who exactly was Reginald Harrington and why did he leave me everything he owned? He couldn’t even do that for his own family whom he’s known for years. And if he knew that he had a granddaughter out there that’s an orphan, why didn’t he come sooner? Was I that hard to find? It’s not like I changed my name or anything. Or was I just irrelevant? Some pawn he’s using to get back at his family that he probably hates?

My head was pounding with questions. I pressed a hand on my temple and Henry turned to me.

“I understand you have a lot of questions.”

I sighed, forcing my eyes shut. “I don’t even know where to start.”