The Alexander will

DUBAI: The loud buzz of his phone ripped Cove Alexander from sleep. He sat up in his penthouse at The Central Park Tower, grabbed it, and saw the name: Mr. Bentley. His father’s lawyer. _Cove threw the phone across the silk sheets._ Today, Lucas Alexander’s will would be read. The meeting was at the Alexander Mansion on Fifth Avenue. Noon sharp. He didn’t want to go. But a property worth billions of dollars says you show up. *FORDHAM ROAD — The Bronx, 7:32am* Zara Elise stepped out of her walk-up apartment and groaned at the grey sky. “I hate this life,” she spat, kicking trash on the sidewalk. Her parents’ apartment was cramped. Her waitress uniform was cheap. Her MTA card was declined. And Zara Elise was NOT made for the Bronx. She deserved Upper East Side penthouses. Hamptons summers. Birkins from Fifth Avenue. And since God wouldn’t give it to her, she’d take it. The only way out was to marry a Manhattan billionaire._ Her plan was interrupted by a splash of dirty street water across her white dress. A black Rolls-Royce sped past. No stop. No sorry. “Stupid rich bastard!” she screamed at the tinted windows, checking her cracked iPhone. 7:45am. She was late for her shift at the diner. Again. With a hiss, she flagged a yellow cab. There went $23 she didn’t have. But billionaires don’t ride the 4 train. *ALEXANDER MANSION — Upper East Side, 1:03pm* Cove adjusted his Tom Ford cuffs and stepped out of the limo onto East 82nd Street. House staff lined the brownstone steps, blushing, whispering. “He’s even finer than the Post said...” He ignored them. He checked his Patek. 1:03pm. The reading was at noon. Good. Let Wall Street wait. The meeting doesn’t start without Cove Alexander. He strolled through the marble foyer, past the Warhol, then upstairs to his father’s office. He pushed the double doors open. His mother.His sister Stacy. Uncle Victor. Mr. Bentley with the will. And one empty chair. Mr. Bentley cleared his throat. “We’ve been waiting, Mr. Alexander. Please, sit.” The screen behind him flickered to life. Lucas Alexander’s face filled the wall. Dead for 72 hours, but still running Manhattan. “If you’re watching this, I’m dead,” Lucas said, no emotion. “And Cove, you’re still a disappointment.” He added as he smiled lightly Cove’s fists clenched. Even in death, the old man knew how to swing. “My will is simple,” Lucas continued. “You have 365 days to bring me a woman you truly love. Not a model. Not a gold digger. Love, Cove. If you fail, you will marry my goddaughter, Ivy Williams.”lucas said "Only after this conditions have been read can the rest of the will be seen" The room went silent. “And if you refuse both?” Lucas smiled for the first time. “Then every dollar of the Alexander fortune goes to NYC charities. You’ll get nothing but the clothes on your back.” The video froze on Lucas’s smile. His question was answered by the click of heels on Italian marble. Every head turned. Standing in the doorway was his worst nightmare in 6-inch Louboutins. Ivy Williams. Cove’s face twisted with disgust. “You,” he snarled. “What the hell is SHE doing here?” "Sorry I'm late" she said as she looked at the faces with a smirk on a her face. Fourteen years ago. Trinity School, Upper West Side, Manhattan. Ten-year-old Cove Alexander hid behind a brick pillar, frozen. In the courtyard, Ivy Williams his father’s goddaughter who lived with them was on the ground. Three older girls circled her. One yanked her blonde hair. Another kicked her textbook across the concrete. Ivy’s knees were scraped, her white tights torn and b****y. “Please stop,” Ivy sobbed, covering her head. Cove wanted to move. Wanted to scream for a teacher. But his feet wouldn’t work. He was terrified. Hours later. 740 Park Avenue. The Alexander Penthouse. Lucas Alexander was waiting in the foyer. Face purple with rage. Two of his guards stood behind him. “My men told me everything,” Lucas roared. “You watched them hurt her, Cove. My goddaughter. An innocent girl. And you did nothing. You’re weak. Just like your mother.” Ivy sat on the silk couch, shaking. A nurse bandaged her knee. Tears still streamed down her face. When she saw Cove, she tried to speak up.. “Cove, I... ” “Silence!” Lucas cut her off. “He doesn’t deserve your pity, Ivy.” "He's such a disappointment" Lucas added Cove stared at her crying face. Shame burned his throat. But then anger took over. She told Dad. She got me in trouble. She made him hate me more than he already did. Lucas pointed at Cove. “You’re done with Trinity. You’re done with friends. You will be locked in your room for a week. Tutors only. No phone. No sunlight. Think about what your cowardice did to her.” The lock clicked on his bedroom door. Seven days. Alone. The only sound was Ivy crying in the guest room next door. From that day on, Cove Alexander made a vow: Ivy Williams was his father’s favorite weapon. And he’d never forgive her for it. But little did he know that there's more to the story. What he didn’t know was that Ivy begged Lucas not to punish him. Every single day. Present day. Ivy wouldn’t meet Cove’s eyes. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. Mr. Bentley closed the will. “Miss Williams is listed as contingency beneficiary, Mr. Alexander. Per Section 4C.” "Mr Bentley what's going on".Ivy asked as she wondered what says the will that made the room to be tensed After watching the video all over again, Everyone eyes rest on Ivy as they expected her to say something. Ivy was too shock to even say anything,this wasn't what she expected. Her reaction brought about a disgusting look on cove's face