“Nice,” I say before debating what I’m going to do with my hand. I’ve currently got fifteen in front of me, and even though I know the chances of busting are high, my gut tells me to take the hit. “All right, Rhonan. Be nice and give me a six, will ya?”
Rhonan smirks as he flips over my card and I practically leap out of my chair when the six of spades is revealed. “Fuck yes!”
Henley laughs on my left. “You’re acting like we’re actually betting real money tonight.”
“Hey, a win is a win.” Reaching out in front of me, I slide the chips I won into my stack as Henley chooses to stay with his hand, beating the dealer as Rhonan busts.
“So, not to put a damper on the high of winning, but…” Rhonan slides the deck of cards to the side and pulls out a few folded papers from his back pocket, tossing it onto the table in front of me. “My private investigator came through a little early.”
My eyes land on the papers. “No shit.”
“Yeah, and I haven’t looked at them, just so you know. But if you want to, I figured we could help you put all of the pieces of your problem together.”
My gaze drifts around the table at my three best friends. “The only thing I ask is that no matter how pissed off I’m about to get, you don’t let me contemplate murder or harm to anyone because I work in the legal system, and the last thing I want to do is see the inside of a prison.”
Fletcher nods. “Will do.”
Sighing, I reach for the papers, unfold them, and lay them out flat as my eyes drift over the pages, one by one. There are so many numbers, addresses, and bank statements, page after page that it starts to become overwhelming, until I arrive at the copy of my grandfather’s will—the one I saw in my father’s office.
“The will,” I say out loud, pulling the paper from the stack and bringing it closer to my face as my eyes scan the words. It’s the beneficiary part that catches my eye. “Holy shit.”
“What does it say?” Rhonan asks, leaning forward in his chair.
When I lift my eyes and glance around to my friends, it takes me a minute to form words. “My grandfather left me an inheritance that I knew nothing about.”
“Shit. Really?” Henley asks.
“Yup.” Tossing the paper onto the table so that they can all see it for themselves, I continue, “But I don’t stand to inherit it until I’m married.”
Silence descends upon the four of us.
“Wait.” Fletcher finally speaks. “You never knew about this?”
“Nope.” I stand from my chair, needing to move to help the adrenaline course through me. My heart is slamming against my sternum, and I can feel the anger boiling just beneath the surface. “Which would explain why my father has been so hell-bent on me getting married.”
“But how does that serve him?” Henley asks.
Rhonan clears his throat. “Because the new version of the will that Elliot saw at the reading never mentioned this, which means that his dad could have the money distributed to a private account after providing proof of a marriage license, and Elliot would have never known that he was supposed to be the recipient of it.”
Fletcher blows out a breath. “Holy shit.”
“Why would your dad do something like that?” Henley asks. “I mean, I know you two haven’t always seen eye to eye, but to scam your own son out of money?”
“Not just a little money,” Rhonan interjects. “Millions.” He slides one of the papers across the table toward Henley as I glance down at the paper over his shoulder. “Fifteen million and some change to be exact.”
“That son of a bitch,” I mutter under my breath, picking up the bank statement and studying every digit on the page. My grandfather was smart with his money and had multiple investment accounts. I just assumed he and my grandma cashed them out and used them to travel when they were still alive, but I guess I was wrong. “And I bet that past-due bill I saw in his office is part of why he wants—no,needsthis money.”
Rhonan hands me another paper. “Yeah, seems your dear old dad has been mismanaging funds in the practice for years, and now he’s in some hot water.”
“But where does Tori fit in with all of this?” Fletcher asks. “That’s the part that doesn’t make sense to me.”
“She and my dad probably made a deal that if she could get me to marry her, she’d get a cut,” I say through clenched teeth.
Fletcher shakes his head. “But why would she need money? And more importantly, she ran off with her boss, remember? Where the hell does he fit into all of this?”
Rhonan keeps looking through papers until he lands on one that keeps his attention much longer than the others. “Tori is in debt too, it seems.” He hands me the paper so I can see her financial statements.
“One of her credit cards has over a $100,000 balance on it.” Then my eyes land on a pertinent detail. “And her boss is an authorized user on the account.”