The Will

Settling II

Dally POV

After dinner, Mr. Bennett led us through the house. The others followed him without question. Why wouldn't they? People like them belonged in places like this.

I hung back. When we reached the staircase leading to the east wing, I cleared my throat. "Mr. Bennett?"

The butler turned. "Yes, Mr. Sandoval?"

The title made me flinch. Nobody called me Mr. Sandoval.

"Dally's fine."

"Very well. Dally."

I shoved my hands into my pockets. "I can just head back to the annex."

His expression didn't change. "I'm sorry?"

"The staff housing." I nodded toward the back of the estate. "I've got my place there already. No need to waste one of the guest rooms on me."

Mr. Bennett regarded me for a moment. Not annoyed. Not confused.

"I have explicit instructions to escort all four potential heirs to rooms in the east wing."

Heirs.

The word still sounded ridiculous.

"I appreciate it, but really, I'm good where I am."

The annex wasn't much. One bedroom. Tiny kitchen. Radiator that made weird noises all winter. But it was home. Mom's mug still sat beside the sink. Her gardening gloves still hung by the back door. Leaving felt wrong.

"Dally," Mr. Bennett said gently, "the annex is no longer your residence."

I frowned "What does that mean?"

"It means your belongings have already been moved."

"What?"

He inclined his head toward the staircase. "Your room is ready."

I

opened my mouth to argue. Then stopped. Mom always hated when I talked back to people in charge.

Respeta a la gente que firma los cheques, mijo.

Respect the people who sign the paychecks. Even if the people signing the paychecks wore white gloves and spoke like they stepped out of an old movie.

I sighed. "Fine."

Mr. Bennett nodded once and continued upstairs.

The hallway seemed to go on forever. Every few feet hung another painting or antique mirror.

Finally, he stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall. He handed me an old brass key.

"Your room."

I pushed the door open. And forgot how to breathe. The bed was enormous. Not queen-sized. Not king-sized.

Bigger.

The kind of bed you saw in magazines at the dentist's office.

Dark wood furniture filled the room, polished so perfectly I could see my reflection in it.

A fireplace sat opposite the bed.

Fresh flowers rested on the dresser.

For a second, I wondered who had arranged them.

Then I realized somebody probably worked here specifically to arrange flowers.

Rich people were f*****g wild like that.

I walked into the bathroom. Stopped. Walked back out. Then went back in just to make sure.

There was a shower. A huge one with glass walls and more knobs than my truck.

And a tub. A real bathtub. The kind with little feet.

I turned in a slow circle. One room. One bathroom.

Bigger than the entire place Mom and I had shared.

My chest tightened unexpectedly.

I crossed to the French doors and stepped onto the balcony.

Below me stretched the rose gardens. Mom's favorite place on the estate.

Rows and rows of blooms spilled across the grounds in shades of red, pink, white, and yellow. Even from up here, I could smell them. For years, I'd cared for those roses. Pruned them. Fertilized them. Covered them before frost. I knew every bush by heart.

And now I had a balcony overlooking them.

The thought felt wrong.

Like I'd wandered into somebody else's life by mistake. I was actually, literally, looking down on my past work. The thought made me chuckle.

I rested my hands on the railing.

Maybe tomorrow somebody would realize there'd been a mix-up. Maybe Mr. Bennett would knock on the door and apologize. Tell me they'd meant to put me back in the annex. Honestly, that would've made more sense.

I looked back at the giant bed. At the fireplace. At the room that probably cost more per night than I made in a month.

Then I shook my head.

Mr. Ashwood had left me part of a four-hundred-and-twenty-billion-dollar empire.

Maybe it was time I stopped acting like I didn't belong here.