Chapter 26 - The Unseen Alliance
While the kitchen buzzed with the gentle, rhythmic sound of Megan kneading dough and Lucy giggling over a wooden rolling pin, miles away across the city, a very different kind of atmosphere hung heavy in Eleanor’s sterile, overly decorated living room.
The room was lit only by the harsh glare of a floor lamp and the flickering blue light of a television screen that no one was watching. Eleanor sat rigidly on her velvet sofa, her hands trembling as she clutched a glass of expensive scotch. Across from her, Allison paced back and forth across the imported Persian rug, her designer heels clicking frantically against the floorboards.
"I don't understand!" Allison shrieked, stopping dead in her tracks and staring at Beatrice, who was furiously typing away on her smartphone. "How could the holographic will override our amendment? We paid a fortune to the notary in downtown Seattle!"
"The notary was a hack, Allison, and your mother was too arrogant to check the county database," Beatrice snapped, not looking up from her phone screen. "Claire didn't just stumble into a lawyer—someone helped her. Someone with deep pockets and a personal vendetta against our family."
Eleanor set her scotch glass down on the glass-top coffee table with a sharp clink, her eyes narrowing into cold slits. "Who could possibly help Claire? She has no money of her own. Richard gave her nothing in the settlement except the clothes on her back and that useless car."
"Not true," a deep, smooth voice echoed from the dark doorway of the hallway.
All three women jumped, turning sharply toward the entrance. Standing in the shadow of the archway was a man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit, his silver-streaked hair neatly brushed, holding a leather briefcase. It was Julian Vance—a name that hadn’t been spoken in polite family circles in over a decade. Julian was Uncle Arthur’s estranged business partner and former rival, a corporate raider who had supposedly been run out of the state by Eleanor’s husband thirty years ago.
"Julian?" Eleanor gasped, clutching her chest as if she had seen a ghost. "What are you doing in my house?"
Julian stepped into the light, a cool, dangerous smile playing on his lips. "Hello, Eleanor. It’s been a long time. You always were terrible at keeping track of corporate enemies. You thought you buried Arthur’s estate secrets deep enough, but secrets have a funny way of resurfacing when people start throwing around fraudulent trust amendments."
Allison backed away toward the sofa, her face turning pale. "You... you’re the one who funded Claire’s lawyer?"
Julian chuckled softly, walking over to the bar cart and pouring himself a finger of scotch without waiting for an invitation. He took a slow sip before meeting Eleanor’s terrified gaze. "Claire is a good woman, Allison. A hardworking, brilliant woman who spent decades being stepped on by a family of narcissistic parasites. And as it turns out, Uncle Arthur left a secondary codicil in his original 1995 portfolio—one that leaves fifty percent of the family publishing empire directly to Claire, free and clear of Eleanor’s control."
May you like
Eleanor stood up slowly, her knees shaking beneath her designer skirt. "You're lying. Arthur left everything to me."
Julian’s smile vanished, replaced by a gaze of absolute ice. "Not according to the federal audit I filed this morning. The war isn't over, Eleanor. In fact, Claire hasn't even played her winning hand yet."
