The Stripping Heiress

Chapter 6

{Hailey’s pov}

“Enough.” Agne’s husband stepped in. “We will sort this out.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing to be sorted.” Mr. Smith reentered the strife.

“You will find the will is indefensible, with significant disincentives to any who might be tempted to challenge it.” I translated that to mean, roughly, shut up and sit down.

“Now, if I may continue…” Mr. Smith looked back down at the will in his hands. “To my grandsons, Aaron Lachlan, Marcus Lachlan, Luca Lachlan, and Julian Lachlan I leave…”

“Everything,” Agnes muttered bitterly.

Mr. Smith spoke over her. “Two hundred thousand dollars, payable on their birthday, until such time to be managed by Clara Smith trustee.”

“What?” Clara sounded shocked. “I mean… what?”

“The hell,” Aaron told her pleasantly. “The phrase you’re looking for, darlin’, is what the hell?”

George hadn’t left everything to his grandsons. Given the scope of his fortune, he’d left them a pittance.

“What is going on here?” Julian asked, each word deadly and precise.

George Lachlan didn’t leave everything to his grandsons. He didn’t leave everything to his daughters. My brain ground to a halt right there. My ears rang.

“Please, everyone,” Mr. Smith held up his hand. “Allow me to finish.”

Forty-six point two billion dollars, I thought, my heart attacking my rib cage and my mouth sandpaper-dry. George Lachlan was worth forty-six point two billion dollars, and he left his grandsons a million dollars, combined. Hundred thousand total to his daughters. Another half million to his servants, The math in this equation did not add up. It couldn’t add up.

One by one, the other occupants of the room turned to stare at me.

“The remainder of my estate,” Mr. Smith read,

“including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Hailey Vale.”

This is not happening.

This cannot be happening.

I’m dreaming.

I’m delusional.

“He left everything to her?” Debra’s voice was shrill enough to break through my stupor.

“Why?” Gone was the woman who’d mused about my astrological sign and regaled me with tales of her sons and lovers. This Debra looked like she could kill someone. Literally.

“Who the hell is she?” Agnes’s voice was knife-edged and clear as a bell.

“There must be some mistake,” Julian spoke like a person used to dealing with mistakes. Bribe, threaten, buy out, I thought. What would the “heir apparent” do to me?

This is not happening. I felt that with every beat of my heart, every breath in, every breath out. This cannot be happening.

“He’s right.” My words came out in a whisper, lost to voices being raised all around. I tried again, louder.

“Julian’s right.” Heads started turning in my direction.

“There must be some mistake.” My voice was hoarse. I felt like I’d just jumped out of a plane. Like I was skydiving and waiting for my tube to open.

This is not real. It can’t be.

“Hailey.” Kiara nudged me in the ribs, clearly telegraphing that I should shut up and stop talking about mistakes.

But there was no way. There had to have been some kind of mix-up. A man I’d never met hadn’t just left me a multi-billion-dollar fortune. Things like that didn’t happen, period.

“You see?” Debra latched on to what I’d said. “Even Helly agrees this is ridiculous.”

This time, I was pretty sure she’d gotten my name wrong on purpose. The remainder of my estate, including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Hailey Vale. Debra Lachlan knew my name now.

They all did.

“I assure you, there is no mistake.” Mr. Smith met my gaze, then turned his attention to the others. “And I assure the rest of you, George Lachlan's last will is utterly unbreakable. Since the majority of the remaining details concern only Hailey, we’ll cease with the drama. But let me make one thing very clear: Per the terms of the will, any heir who challenges Hailey’s inheritance will forfeit their share of the estate entirely.”

Hailey’s inheritance. I felt dizzy, almost nauseous. “Traps upon traps,” Marcus murmured. “And riddles upon riddles.” I could feel his dark green eyes on mine.

“I think you should leave,” Julian told me curtly. Not a request. An order.

“Technically…” Clara Smith sounded like she’d just swallowed arsenic. “It’s her house.”

She really hadn’t known what was in the will. She’d been kept in the dark, just like the family. How could George Lachlan blindside them like this? What kind of person does that to their own flesh and blood?

“I don’t understand,” I said out loud, dizzy and numb, because none of this made any kind of sense.

“My daughter is correct.” Mr. Smith kept his tone neutral. “You own it all, Ms.Vale. Not just the fortune, but all of Mr.Lachlan’s properties, including Lachlan House. Per the terms of your inheritance, which I will gladly go over with you, the current occupants have been granted tenancy unless—and until—they give you cause for removal.” He let those words hang in the air. “Under no circumstances,” he continued gravely, his words rife with warning. “Will those tenants remove you.”

The room was suddenly silent and still. They’re going to kill me. Someone in this room is going to kill me.

The man I’d pegged as a former military strode to stand between me and George Lachlan’s family. He said nothing, crossing his arms over his chest, keeping me behind him and the rest of them in his sight.

“Williams!” Agnes sounded shocked. “You work for this family.”

“I worked for Mr. Lachlan.” Williams Brown paused and held up a piece of paper. It took me a moment to realize that it was his letter. “It was his last request that I continue in the employment of Ms. Hailey Vale.” He glanced at me. “Security. You’ll need it.”

“And not just to protect you from us!” Aaron added to my left.

“Take a step back, please,” Williams ordered.

Aaron held his hands up. “Peace,” he declared. “I make bad predictions in peace!”

“Aaron’a right.” Marcus smiled like this was all a game.

“The entire world’s going to want a piece of you, Mystery Girl. This has the story of the century written all over it.”

Story of the century. My brain kicked back into gear because this was every indication. It wasn't a joke.

I wasn’t delusional

I wasn't dreaming

I was an heiress.