The Forbidden Inheritance

Chapter 2

The name still rang in my ears like a tolling bell.

Elias Lawson.

Philip’s twin.

I had slept with my husband’s twin.

There was no greater sin, no crueler trick of fate.

The moment his blue eyes cut across the room to mine, my lungs seized. I wanted to scream, to tear through the silence and confess the madness of last night—but I couldn’t. I only looked away, heart racing, skin prickling with shame. All I wanted was for this ordeal to end so I could flee upstairs, lock my door, and erase his presence from my world forever.

I felt every gaze shift toward me, waiting for a polite greeting, some acknowledgment of this stranger who was not a stranger at all. My tongue stayed frozen.

“Well,” my stepmother-in-law’s voice sliced through the air, smooth but sharp, “isn’t someone going to speak? You’re the only person who hasn’t met him before or shall we all sit here pretending?”

I wished I could say something. Instead, I sat still, my palm damp against the fabric of my dress.

“It’s not necessary,” Elias said, his voice low and unbothered. His tone carried no warmth, no recognition of last night or maybe he was pretending not to recall. His eyes didn’t linger long on me, but the weight of them still pinned me. “We can continue.”

The lawyer gave a brisk nod, clearly relieved, and shuffled his papers. “Very well. If everyone is settled, we shall proceed with the reading of Mr. Philip Lawson’s will.”

The air thickened. My chest burned as though I were suffocating.

I tried to tune him out, but my ears caught on the one sound that could not be ignored. My own name.

> “To my wife, Mara Lawson,” the lawyer read in his clipped, practiced cadence, “I bequeath half ownership of the Lawson family estate, as well as an equal share of all household assets. To my stepmother, Mrs. Camille Lawson, and her daughter Andrea Lawson, I establish a trust to be divided evenly between them under legal supervision.”

My eyes widened.

Camille’s face remained poised, unreadable, but I could feel Andrea’s fury burning hot against me, searing like open flame.

The lawyer continued:

> “The remainder of my business holdings, including Lawson Enterprises, shall be overseen by my twin brother, Elias Lawson, who will assume temporary guardianship of the company until such time as joint cooperation can be arranged between himself and my wife, Mara Lawson.”

The words struck like a hammer to my skull. Joint cooperation. With him?

The very man I wanted to erase from memory was the one fate bound me closer to.

My pulse roared. My skin clamored. Heaven itself seemed to hate me.

I wasn’t ready for this at all. There was no way I would accept it.

Andrea snapped. “This is a joke. She gets everything? The house, the company? She doesn’t deserve it! She ruined Philip’s life!”

“Watch your tongue,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Andrea surged to her feet, eyes flashing with venom. “Don’t you dare speak to me. You think wearing his ring makes you one of us? You were nothing before him, and you’ll go back to being nothing without him!”

My fingers dug into the hem of my dress, but I stayed silent. Her words cut sharper than any blade. Deep inside, she wasn’t entirely wrong. The only reason Philip had married me was because of my situation at the time.

“Sit down, Andrea,” Camille said, her voice smooth, practiced elegance coating her fury.

The lawyer cleared his throat, gathering his papers with the nervous haste of a man desperate to flee. “I—I am only executing Philip’s directives. That concludes the reading.”

But Andrea’s fury only mounted. “He must have been manipulated, blinded by this conniving little witch. You always were poison, Mara. And now you’re clawing for what isn’t yours!”

I opened my mouth, but no words came. The weight of her contempt pressed me into my chair. I didn’t even know where to start. I never asked for this. I thought Philip didn’t love me so why leave me something this big?

I stared into the air, blank and hollow, as the lawyer rose with his briefcase. Elias, who had been silent and observing since, stood and escorted him out.

At last, Camille rose, her composure intact as she gripped Andrea’s arm. “Enough. We don’t lower ourselves to tantrums. Not here. Not today.” Her eyes flicked toward me, cold and cutting. “Come. We have no more business in this room.”

Andrea jerked against her grip, but Camille’s hand only tightened. One last glare, one last hiss of fury from Andrea, and they swept toward the stairs, heels striking against the marble until silence swallowed them.

I sat frozen in the emptiness, every nerve raw.

Moments later, the door creaked open. Elias stepped back inside, the storm in his eyes unreadable. His presence filled the space, colder than before.

He didn’t look at me. Didn’t pause. Just moved past me toward the stairs.

“Tomorrow by nine o’clock,” he said, his tone clipped. “We’ll be at the company together.”

The words sliced through me, pulling me upright. “No,” I blurted. “I don’t want this. I want no part of it.”

He stopped then, turning just enough for me to see the hard line of his jaw. His eyes caught mine, sharp and merciless. My heart began to pound again.

“You don’t get to decide,” he said, voice like steel. “You have no say in this.”

And with that, he walked out, ascending the staircase, leaving me trembling.

The echo of his footsteps haunted me.

I sat there long after, hands trembling in my lap. I wanted to scream. To cry. To run. But my body wouldn’t move.

At last, I rose. My legs carried me up the stairs, down the long corridor, until I stopped outside his door.

I raised my hand, ready to knock, to tell him again that I wouldn’t—couldn’t—be part of this.

But then I froze when I heard his voice through the door.

“…they found traces of arsenic poisoning in my brother’s system.”

The words slammed into me like a blow.

My breath caught. My hand lowered to my side. I stood frozen, every muscle locked, as though the mere sound of that word had turned me to stone.

Arsenic.

The air thickened around me. My heart pounded so violently I thought it might burst from my chest. Without a sound, I retreated a step, then another, until I was far enough down the corridor that the muffled cadence of his voice no longer reached me.

I slipped into my room, closing the door with shaking hands. The silence pressed in, suffocating.

I went straight to the drawer beside my bed. My fingers fumbled as I pulled it open, rifling through scarves and old trinkets until I found it—the small empty glass bottle I had hidden away.

Its label was simple. Plain. Yet the single word printed there seared into my vision like a brand of fire:

Arsenic.

The bottle trembled in my grasp, my breath coming shallow and sharp. To keep it had felt safer—until now.

My knees buckled, and I sank to the floor, clutching it to my chest.

Slowly, with desperate hands, I pushed it beneath the bed, far back into the shadows where no one could find it. But even hidden, I could feel its presence, as though it whispered from the dark.

Because if anyone found it…

If anyone saw…

It would be the end of me.