David had sat off to the side, looking hungover and sad. Sandra sat next to Taylor and her boyfriend Brent, comforting the teenager when she cried. Tom was also there but he kept quite a distance between himself and everyone else, sitting in the back of the chapel. Eli had spoken briefly to him, but Misty hadn't overheard what was said.

  A clergyman then led a short prayer and they were done. With no one saying a word, they'd all left the chapel and returned to the house where they would - in about an hour - receive guests from the nearby communities that wanted to pay their respects. In the meantime, the attorney had arrived to read the will.

  It had all felt so final. Walking out of that chapel, Misty couldn't help but think that if Adam Reynolds was truly her biological father, she was never going to get a chance to really get to know him. She'd only have that conversation in his library that first day. That was it. She didn't even know if he liked chocolate ice cream. But most people like chocolate ice cream. Right?

  If he'd held off sending that letter even a few weeks, this wouldn't have happened. She wouldn't have come here to meet him and she wouldn't be feeling so sad. Not just about his death, but about the missed opportunity. She could have gone on living her life the way she had been, content in not knowing who or what her father was. She'd made peace with that fact but now she had to find a way to find that peace again with a completely different set of circumstances. It was going to take time.

  "Jared and I will go upstairs until the guests arrive," Misty said to Lydia. "We'll stay out of your way while the lawyer is here."

  Lydia smiled and patted Misty's arm lightly. "You're so thoughtful, dear. Hopefully, it won't take long. It should be fairly straightforward. I'll send someone up to your room when we're done. I'll be helping the staff set up the food on the patio."

  Misty and Jared had barely set foot on the bottom stair when Tom ran after them, calling their names.

  "Wait," he said. "The attorney has requested that Misty be present as well."

  "What on earth?" she muttered under breath. She had a very bad feeling about this.

  "Your guess is as good as mine," Jared replied softly. "Looks like you've been summoned."

  "You're going with me."

  "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

  She linked her arm with her husband's. "I don't have a good feeling. I shouldn't need to be in on this."

  "I have that same feeling. Let's hope we're both wrong."

  Maximillian Sharp had been Adam Reynolds' attorney for over thirty years. With gray hair and craggy features, he was dressed in a dark three-piece suit with an old-fashioned pocket watch in the vest. He certainly looked the part of a lawyer about to read a will, right down to the wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He was sitting in a chair brought in from the dining room, his papers spread out on an end table.

  The rest of the family had gathered in the living room, leaving a chair vacant for Misty near the empty fireplace. Jared perched on the arm and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Her own hands were digging into the cushions as butterflies buzzed in her abdomen. She nervously licked her lips and ran her gaze around the room. Everyone but Max was looking at her, wondering why she was here.

  I'm wondering too. Honestly, I'd rather not be present for this.

  Clearing his throat, Max shuffled a few papers on his lap. "I think we're all here now so we can get started."

  Taylor's eyes shot daggers at Misty, her lips pressed together in a thin line. "Why is she here?"

  Max cleared his throat again. "Everyone is here for a reason. Now if we could get started, please?"

  Sandra wrapped an arm around the teenager's shoulders and nodded. "Of course, Max. Go ahead."

  "First, we'll begin with the smaller bequests. Each member of the estate staff will receive five thousand dollars for every year they've been employed. Adam's personal chauffeur will receive an additional twenty-five thousand dollars."

  The family nodded in agreement, and Sandra smiled. Misty wasn't sure how they would have reacted if they hadn't agreed. There wasn't much they could do about it now.

  "Adam's personal assistant Thomas Butler will receive the sum of fifty thousand dollars."

  Tom looked like he wanted to stand up, hike a football in the end zone, but didn't want anyone to know how happy he was at the same time. His face was bright red and he was practically vibrating in his seat trying to hold his emotions in check.

  "To his ex-wife Sandra Graham, I bequeath her main domicile, the house in San Francisco, and the sum of five hundred thousand dollars."

  Sandra seemed quite content with that, murmuring something about Adam being a generous man but Misty couldn't make out all the words.

  "To my companion Lydia Harrow, I bequeath the vintage Bentley that she currently drives and also the sum of twenty-five thousand dollars."

  In contrast to the ex-wife, Lydia looked like she'd been slapped in the face. Multiple times. She wasn't happy at all.

  Jared's hand tightened slightly on Misty's shoulder. He had to be noticing the rapid rise of tension in the room. The air was thick with it and she had to force herself to breathe normally and calm. Everyone was a hell of a lot jumpier than they'd been only five minutes ago. This wasn't as straightforward as Lydia had thought it would be.

  "To my son David I bequeath my car collection, the house in Aspen, the house in Paris, and a third of my business portfolio including cash, stocks, bonds, and the Chipper Shopper corporation."

  Despite his obvious hangover, David appeared quite happy with that outcome. If what Robin had said was true, he'd been expecting to be cut out of the family business.

  "To my daughter Dahlia, I bequeath the house in Hawaii, the chateau in Switzerland, this house and all the furnishings, and a third of my business portfolio including cash, stocks, bonds, and the Chipper Shopper corporation."

  Dahlia's expression barely changed at all. She could have received the best news in the world or the worst and no one would have known. She should have become a professional poker player.

  "To my beloved granddaughter Taylor, I bequeath an apartment in New York City that I chose just for her. She will also receive the sum of five million dollars placed in a trust for her education. Once she turns twenty-five she can use it as she wishes."

  Taylor was not pleased at all. She was frowning and hissing something to her grandmother that Misty couldn't make out. She kept shaking her head and Sandra kept trying to calm her down.

  "That's bullshit," Taylor said loud enough for everyone to hear. "It's just stupid."

  Sandra patted her granddaughter on the shoulder. "Hush, we'll talk about this later."

  Taylor knocked Sandra's hand off her shoulder and silently fumed, crossing her arms over her chest.

  "And to my newly-found daughter Misty Foster Monroe, I leave the house in Florida, the flat in London, and a third of my business portfolio including cash, stocks, bonds, and the Chipper Shopper corporation. I know that money cannot replace what you've missed out on not having a father, but I hope that this will in some way make up for not being there for you."

  Chaos. Anarchy.

  If Adam had jumped out from behind one of the heavy drapes and said surprise! it wouldn't have caused this much pandemonium. It was insane. Misty, however, hadn't said a word yet. She was numb. This couldn't be true. It had to be some sort of practical joke. It didn't make any sense at all.

  There weren't words yet discovered to describe the screaming and the panic that had set in among the Reynolds family. No one was sitting quietly now except for Lydia and David. They seemed to enjoy watching the rest of them pace and yell.

  Misty tugged at Jared's sleeve, pulling him down so she could whisper in his ear.

  "We might want to make a run for it."

  Because eventually they were going to stop yelling at Maximillian Sharp.

  And turn their attention to the person they really hated.

  Her.

  19

  All hell had broken loose. There was yelling, stomping, some waving of arms, and shrill voices that made Jared want to cover his ears.

  Of all the things he hadn't expected to happen today this would have been top of the list. What the fuck had Adam Reynolds been thinking? He clearly hadn't discussed this with anyone but his attorney and now his family was blindsided and pissed off. Reynolds really had been a son of a bitch right up until the end. He had to have known how they would react but he hadn't given a single damn.

  Misty's fingers tightened on his arm. "We might want to make a run for it."

  He'd already eyed the exit to the stairs and the dining room. Lydia and Tom were blocking it either by design or by accident. The French doors to the pool weren't a viable option either as Max Sharp was sitting almost right in front of them.

  "You planned this," Taylor said, her face contorted with rage. "You convinced my grandfather to give my part of the company to you."

  "That might be easier said than done, honey." He leaned farther down so his lips were next to her ear. "Just tell them you won't take the money. Then they can all calm down."

  She nodded, grabbing his hand and entwining their fingers.

  "Please listen to me," Misty said loudly, rising from the chair. Jared followed her, keeping a hold of her hand. "Can you please quiet down for a minute? I want to say that I won't be accepting any money. I'm not going to take anything from Adam. This isn't what we came here for."

  Everyone froze, their eyes round as if they hadn't heard her correctly. Clearly, no one had expected her to say those words. No one said anything until Dahlia stepped forward.

  "You don't–I mean...you're not going to take the money?"

  "I'm not going to take anything. I just wanted to meet my father. That's it. I never asked or wanted this."

  "Well, that's fine then," Sandra said with a firm nod. "The company will be kept within the family."

  Jared didn't bother reminding the older woman that Misty just might be family. They simply didn't know for sure yet.

  Another clearing of the throat from Max. "Excuse me. I think I need to clear up a few things. Can you all sit down, please? There are things we still need to discuss."

  They didn't want to, but Max Sharp simply gave them an expectant look and eventually everyone sat down, including Misty. Jared stayed standing, leaning on the wing of the chair.

  "First of all, Adam wrote this will over two weeks ago. Before he had met Ms. Monroe. He told me all about their upcoming meeting and what he felt he owed her." Sharp rubbed at his pointed chin, his gaze running around the room before returning to the documents in front of him. "Second, he also anticipated his family's reaction and also Ms. Monroe's reluctance to accept her inheritance. He added this in his will. If Ms. Monroe refuses her bequest, all of his assets - every single one - would be given to three charities he'd selected ahead of time. No one will get a single red cent. He was quite clear about that."

  There was a second uproar among the family. Too many people talking loudly all at the same time.

  Misty looked up at him, her eyes wide with panic. This was a shitshow of massive proportions and if Adam Reynolds were standing in from of Jared right now, he'd get a punch in the jaw for placing Misty in this position. It wasn't right or fair, but the asshole just had to have the last fucking word.

  This was bullshit.

  Taking his wife's hand, Jared gently pulled her away from the group so he could lead her back to their room. He was definitely taking her home in the morning. In fact, if he could convince her, he just might throw their things into suitcases and take her out of this house right the hell now. He could drive until it was dark and then check into a hotel for the night.

  Misty seemed to instinctually understand what he wanted without him having to say a word, which was the best part of being married to someone for so long. He wasn't a man that liked to talk all that much and with her he didn't have to. Most times she knew exactly what he was thinking as if she could see the inner workings of his brain.

  "I just wanted to get you out of there," Jared said as they exited the living room. "Adam should have warned you."

  "I don't think he thought he was going to die so soon, but yes, I wish he'd given me a heads up. It was brutal in there. I actually felt the wave of hate coming off of them. I'd only heard about something like that in books, but it was real."

  It certainly was. Jared had felt it too. If looks could kill and all of that.

  When they were back in their room, Jared shut the door firmly behind them and flicked the lock closed. He didn't want anyone barging in on them to give Misty any more grief.

  "Tell that attorney that you don't want their filthy money," he growled as Misty fell back on the bed, her head resting on a pile of pillows. "They're down there right now eating each other alive."

  But then another thought occurred to him.

  "Unless...sweetheart, do you want the money?"

  Because if she did, he wouldn't stand in her way. In her mind, she might think that she deserved the inheritance since Adam had been a shitty, nonexistent parent and technically she wouldn't be wrong. She really did deserve the money. He'd sort of assumed that she wouldn't take it, though. It was too bad that the whole reading the mind thing didn't extend to him always knowing her thoughts too.

  Plus Misty had been brought up on a shoestring, never having the resources for more than the bare essentials. When they'd married, he'd practically had to buy her an entire wardrobe and a new car. She was incredibly frugal as well, and she could squeeze a nickel like no one he'd ever known before. He often had to urge her to replace worn-out shoes and t-shirts with holes in them. She'd never cared much about material things. She'd simply laugh and tell him she'd just broken in those shoes so that they were comfortable.

  Misty was already shaking her head, though. "No, I do not want the money."

  "Because you do deserve it. He should have made sure that your mother had the support she needed to raise you."

  "I still don't want it. We don't even know if he's my real father."

  "Apparently, Adam was completely convinced. He did this before he even met you, and he clearly wanted you to have the money."

  "Do we need it? We're fine, right?"

  They were. Jared made an excellent living and honestly, so did she, although her income as an artist could swing wildly throughout the year. Plus he had his inheritance from his father passing away. Most of it was tied up in the ranch but they were doing fine.

  "Absolutely, we don't have any money issues."

  She sat up on the bed, wrapping her arms around her bent knees. "If I can't not accept the money, I guess we could put it in a trust for the kids."

  "You don't have to accept it. You can make any choice that you want."

  The idea of running a third of the business with Dahlia and David made Jared want to poke himself in the eye with a pen. Repeatedly. He couldn't imagine that it would be all that pleasant.

  "If I don't accept then they won't get their inheritances."

  "So? I'm not sure that would be the worst thing in the world," Jared argued. "They're horrible people, honey. Remember that one of them might have killed Adam. I'm not sure that they deserve millions of dollars."

  "That's true," she conceded. "But they're not all guilty. I'd be robbing the rest of them, including the staff, and I'm not sure I can live with myself if I do that."

  Jared was pretty sure that her generous, soft-hearted attitude was exactly what Adam had been banking on. He'd done his homework on his possible daughter and rolled the dice making out that will.

  "It wouldn't be the end of the world if they had to get a job."

  "You sound just like your father," Misty chuckled. "He was all about hard work shaping your character."

  That was true. Gerald Monroe had taught his sons early that everything in this life had to be earned. Nothing was free. Nothing worth having, anyway.

  "I'm not sure it would be the best thing for Lizzie and Nate to know that they had a few hundred million waiting for them when they grow up. I would imagine they might slack off a little bit. Or a lot."

  "You make a good point. I swear my head hurts just thinking about it. My gut is telling me that this money would more of a curse than a gift. We don't need it, and you may be right about what it could do to the kids. We're so careful about spoiling them now. I can just hear Nate asking for a sports car when he graduates high school."

  "He can ask all he wants, but he isn't getting one."

  "So where does that leave us?"

  "Charities, scholarship funds, hospitals. There's a hell of a lot of need out there. Even this much money won't solve it, but it could help."

  She wrinkled her nose. "It will make the papers. People will find out."

  After being the subject of cruel gossip in their hometown of Fielding, Misty wasn't a huge fan of others knowing her business. She liked to live quietly and privately. He did as well.

  "It's going to make the news no matter what. A long-lost heiress to the Chipper Shopper fortune. Whether you give it away or not. You can always donate anonymously. But this will is definitely going to be news. If we're lucky, some politician will screw up and they'll take over the news cycle and everyone will forget about you."

  "They might sue," Misty replied with a sigh. "Drag this through the courts for years."

  "Then they'll be fighting the courts, not us. We don't even need to get involved. I have a feeling though that Adam made sure his will was bulletproof. He was that kind of a man."

  "I think coming here was a mistake. But I wanted to meet Adam. I wanted..."

  Her voice trailed off but this time he already knew what she wanted to say. She'd wanted a father. Not for his money or anything like that. She wanted a human being that wasn't her children that was family. She was well aware that she couldn't change the past but she'd wanted Adam in her future.

  She wasn't going to say it out loud, however.

  Jared sat down on the bed next to her, nuzzling her temple. Her hair smelled like vanilla and coconut. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You deserved better."