I run my hand over my face.
Damn. I was really hoping that when he said it before, it was a bad nightmare, but here he is, repeating Mustang’s will again. It’s all right there. He really put his ideas on paper and signed them. I want to be mad at him, but I’m not. I feel sad that he felt this was the best way to care for the thing he cared about most. Rain.
“There is a time limit, right? You mentioned to me before that it was urgent. What time frame did he give us?”
“Yes. You have to be married within a month, and during that time, you must submit an official marriage license to me for everything to be released. Mustang was very adamant about it being an official marriage. He said you two were clever enough that he couldn’t leave any loopholes or you two would take it,” he tells me.
He’s not wrong. Rain and I would find any way to get out of this if possible.
“Is there a failsafe anywhere in there?” I ask, desperation seeping into my voice.
Mr. Cohen shakes his head and looks at me sympathetically. “Unfortunately, no, unless you plan to die anytime soon. Then she would be released from the stipulations and receive the full sum immediately. Mustang was very adamant about his wishes.To be completely frank, when he came to me with this, I thought he was joking. As far as I’m concerned, arranged marriages are archaic, but he refused to drop it.”
“What happens if Rain won’t marry me?” I ask him point-blank.
Mr. Cohen leans back in his chair. “Then she loses everything. The money and the house will be given to charity.”
I sit on that for a moment and take it in.
The fact that he would give everything to charity isn’t a surprise. Despite his rough appearance, Mustang loved giving back. He said it made him happy to make the community he grew up in better, even in the smallest of ways.
“Would I be able to purchase the house from the charity?” I ask after a moment.
“I’m not sure. In some instances, yes, but sometimes charities decide to keep the home to assist people in need. Mustang’s chosen charity is tied to the children’s hospital. They might decide to keep it to home families during the stay,” he says, making my heart sink further.
“So if Rain says no, she loses everything?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
“Yes, which truly would be unfortunate.”
Before I can say anything else, his phone rings.
“Sorry, I have to answer this,” he murmurs before picking up the phone. “Yes?” he pauses. “Send her in,” he says before hanging up.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Of course. It seems to be that the woman in question is here,” he tells me.
There is a knock on his door before it swings open. Rain steps in but stops when she sees me.
“What are you doing here?” she asks with suspicion in her voice.
“Same as you. Trying to figure out what I can save from your dad’s estate,” I tell her.
“I tried to call but was told he would only see me in person.” She glares at the lawyer.
“Please shut the door and join us,” Mr. Cohen says.
Rain does as he asks and comes to sit in the chair next to me, not once looking my way.
“I need to know the fine print,” she says, cutting to the chase.
Mr. Cohen launches back in, explaining everything to her that he just told me. I watch as she takes it all in, slowly realizing that her hands—our hands—are tied.
“How long do we need to remain married for?” she asks robotically.
“If you are to marry, you need to stay married for a period of two years. If after two years you are still unhappy, you may separate for a year, then divorce, but during the marriage, you must live at the same residence. If you agree to this, the entire estate will go to you, Rain, minus the antique motorcycle, which is to go to Ridge,” he tells us.
Rain huffs, shaking her head as she leans back in her chair.