Connor
Almost exactly a week later came the reading of the will. My father wasn’t even in the ground yet, and the vultures descended to pick over the carrion.
To be fair, with a business empire that large, there were certain questions that had to be settled quickly. My father had been a day-to-day participant as CEO, not just a ‘once a month’ Chairman of the Board. Someone needed to head up the various companies that comprised the Templeton Group. Not to mention, the politics of the situation would be significantly altered depending on how his controlling share of stock was divided.
Two weeks before, I wouldn’t have cared. I would have just assumed everything would pass on to Mother, with Vincent in the CEO role as a sort of puppet, and Miranda pulling all the strings.
Dad had said essentially the same thing: We both know the truth. Your mother, strong as she is, isn’t a businesswoman. And Vincent is a weakling. Miranda will overpower them both and ransack everything for her own gains… which will undoubtedly include destroying you.
But another one of our exchanges at dinner had left me wondering.
Do you really want to see your legacy fall into the hands of a monster?
No. No, I don’t.
Then you have to do something.
I’m looking into the matter.
Then I had asked, What are you thinking of doing? but he had avoided answering.
The question now was, had he done anything about it before his death… or had he actually been planning to do anything at all?
That was the reason I was going. Not out of any interest in what he might leave me… not out of some sentimental obligation… but because I wanted to know if he’d safeguarded his kingdom from the monster inside the gates.
I would have taken Lily with me if she truly wanted to go, but we both agreed that having her there would be a lighted match to a powder keg already waiting to explode.
“Your mom hates me, and I don’t want to cause a scene,” she said. “You go. Unless you need me.”
I kissed her, and for the thousandth time in the last year, thought about how lucky I was to be marrying her.
Two weeks before, I would have brought Lily along with me just to flaunt her in my mother’s face. I still hadn’t forgiven Mother for all the hateful things she’d said about Lily when I was in the hospital, and I enjoyed sticking it to her every chance I got.
But… things had changed, and I felt differently. I’d dropped by and seen my mother briefly in the previous week – probably the only sentimental obligation I’d performed in the last seven years. Vincent had been there, though thankfully not Miranda. Most of the time, Mother had been lucid and in control. There had been bouts of uncontrollable weeping, which was understandable – but on several occasions she had called out “Augustus? Augustus!” as though she were looking for him. I had asked myself at least once, Is my mother losing her mind?
I’d talked to Vincent on the phone several times since (another minor miracle), and he wasn’t any more encouraging.
“We’re having to keep her sedated most of the time.”
“Do you think we need to… have her see somebody?”
“I’ve got a doctor here round the clock. If she thinks it’s a good idea, I’ll let you know.”
Now, walking into the Park Avenue law firm of Oligivy Hasten and Schmidt, flanked on either side by my bodyguards Armin and Stan, I steeled myself for a dozen unpleasant possibilities.
Number one, of course, was Miranda.
She was there, sitting on the far left of Vincent and my mother in the senior partner’s office. But when Vincent came over to shake my hand, Miranda mercifully stayed seated. I don’t think I could have handled any hypocritical platitudes coming out of her mouth.
“How’s Mother?” I whispered to Vincent.
He shrugged. “She’s been okay since we got here.”
I walked over. “Mother.”
She looked up at me, then looked away dismissively. “I see you came.”
“Yes.”
“I doubt he left you anything,” she said nastily.
I was trying to retain my composure. “I doubt it, too.”
“You shouldn’t have defied him for all those years. He might have left you something.”
“I have enough of my own.” I turned away to go sit down on the other side of the room –
“Are you coming to the funeral?” my mother asked.
I turned back, surprised. “Of course.”
Her eyes turned into slits, and her lips parted in a sneer. “Don’t you dare bring your whore to my husband’s funeral.”
I wanted to kill her.
I wanted to slap her so hard that her neck would break.
“Mom, shush,” Vincent whispered harshly.
“I’m only calling a spade a spade – ”
“Mom, shut up,” Vincent hissed.
“Don’t you talk to me that – ”
“ALL RIGHT, everyone,” the senior partner interrupted loudly, “now that Connor is here, we can begin the reading of the will.”
That shut my mother right up.
It was feeding time, after all – and a vulture can’t say too much when its beak is full.