Bound by the will

CHAPTER 001

STEVIE HARRINGTON

People crowded the funeral, most of them paying their respects. I held my chest as it tightened and ached. I just sat there watching, with tears running down my cheeks.

Who didn’t know Peterson's Blackwell, popularly known as Big Peterson? The name Big Peterson's was given to him by a little kid he helped once. He was a billionaire, CEO of Peterson’s Empire, rumored to have lost all family except Devon.

Devon stood as the chief mourner; he looked dumbfounded. I could hear most of the people cursing at him. Devon was the only surviving family Big Peterson had—rumored to be a mafia and also really mannerless and rude, as said by those working under him.

After the funeral, the lawyer, Mr. Trent, called us together to read Big Peterson’s will. I was given a letter to read, same as Devon, who didn’t bother to open his letter.

I drifted my attention back to mine as I began reading—

“Dear Stevie, I just wanted to say thank you for the wonderful time I had with you. I guess it’s late, but still, I’m grateful that I met someone with a beautiful and gentle heart like yours. Stevie, I just have one request. Remember you asked me to prepare a birthday wish? I’m making one now, and I hope you can fulfill it. ‘Marry my grandson, Devon.’”

The last four words hit me like a slap. My knees weakened, and I dropped onto the couch.

“Marry—marry who?” I scoffed under my breath, but continued reading.

“I know this is out of the blue, but it’s something I truly hope for. I’m not going to explain anything about Devon, except that he is a sweet soul deep down, and you are the only one who can bring that side of him out to the world. You have worked with me for five years, and I have watched you closely. I’ve never seen anyone Devon tried to respect except you. I trust you both will make a good couple. It’s perfectly okay if you decide not to grant my wish. But please serve two years as Devon’s right-hand woman, and after that, you may choose whether to keep him or not. If not, you’re free to go with twenty percent of my wealth as thanks for everything. I’m sorry I didn’t live long enough to see your birthday, but happy birthday in advance.”

I held my chest as tears streamed down my cheeks like water falling from a mountaintop.

“I can’t believe he died just like that,” I whispered as my voice cracked.

Even in death, Big Peterson still found a way to surprise me.

“This can’t work. I decline,” I muttered, rising abruptly as more tears blurred my vision.

I stepped out to the veranda, the cool air hitting my face as I cried harder, reminiscing about the old man walking in the garden, watering and trimming flowers; the board games where he would pretend to cheat so I would tease him.

“How couldn’t you cheat death this time?” I sobbed. “You could have stayed a little longer… till your birthday. It’s both our birthdays…”

Sarah, one of my coworkers, rushed to my side and wrapped her arms around me.

“Stevie… you should come back in. There’s a video message he left for us.”

She helped me up, and we walked back into the living room.

Devon sat on the couch completely still. His eyes were empty, lost, like he wasn’t really in the room. His jaw was locked tight, and his fist rested on his knee, clenched so hard I could see the veins in his hand. He looked like someone fighting emotions he didn’t know how to handle.

The screen lit up as the video began.

Big Peterson appeared, smiling warmly. Even with cancer, he looked too healthy.

My chest tightened again. “He still had two years…” I whispered, wiping a stray tear.

He spoke kindly to us, thanking us for standing by him. He even gifted every worker a house and five million dollars if they chose not to continue under Devon’s leadership.

He was that kind of man—class never mattered to him. Heart always did.

When the video ended, the lawyer stepped forward.

“You have no choice but to comply,” he said firmly, looking at Devon. “Treat her well, without aggression, just as your grandfather instructed.”

Devon didn’t say a word. His fist clenched even tighter.

“And thank you all for being here. I believe Big Peterson would be smiling, knowing you stayed with him till the very end. May his gentle soul rest in peace.” The lawyer closed his briefcase and left.

The room filled with whispers, my coworkers murmuring about the unusual wish—some scoffing, some confused. I ignored them, my eyes fixed on Devon. Was he sad? Angry? Completely numb? I tried to read him, but his face revealed nothing.

Sarah nudged me with a look, motioning that we should leave.

“I can’t believe he’s not saying anything,” I whispered.

“I’ve never seen him like that in my seven years here,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s… scary.”

“I’m tired. I need to rest,” I said quietly.

She nodded. “I wanted to talk, but it seems like you’re not in the mood for chitchats. Go rest.”

I walked to my room and collapsed on my bed. Everything felt unreal.

I had just lost someone who was like a father to me…

And he had left me with a really impossible task.

“Why would he ask this of me?” I whispered. “We talked about this. Why turn it into a wish?”

My thoughts drifted to Devon. His grandfather’s death must have hit him hard. Devon’s world had always been full of chaos and pressure. He had no control over his temper—yelling, breaking things, firing workers without warning. He never hurt anyone physically, but his rage alone could destroy a person’s confidence.

I would have been caught in that storm many times… if not for Big Peterson.

“Everything feels so heavy…” I sighed, my voice fading as sleep finally took over.

But just before sleep claimed me, my eye caught something in my cupboard—as if someone had put it there in a hurry but didn’t place it well.

A small envelope. I could see a few letters of my name.

“What was that?” I thought, but I was already too weak to check, so I dozed off.