The billionaires inherited bride: Sealed by the will

Ariana. I was counting down the minutes until my shift ended when my phone started vibrating inside my apron pocket. The moment I saw the hospital's number on the screen, my stomach twisted into a knot. It was the third time they had called that day, and I already knew what they wanted before I even answered. Money is always a problem these days. I stepped into a quieter corner near the storage room and answered the call. The nurse's voice was gentle, but that only made the conversation harder to hear. She explained that my mother's condition had worsened again and that the doctors wanted to begin another round of tests immediately. When she mentioned the estimated cost, I had to close my eyes for a second. "Thank you," I managed to say before ending the call. K There was nothing else to say because I didn't have the money they needed. I barely had enough to cover rent and groceries, let alone hospital bills. Every day felt like I was drowning while trying to convince everyone around me that I could still swim. "Ariana, table nine is waiting for their drinks," Jenna called from behind the counter. Her voice pulled me back to reality before I could fall deeper into my thoughts. I slipped my phone away, forced a smile onto my face, and picked up a tray. Whatever was happening at the hospital would have to wait until my shift ended. The bar was unusually busy for a weeknight. Music blasted from the speakers while customers laughed loudly over one another, filling the room with endless noise. Normally, I didn't mind the chaos because it helped distract me from my problems. Tonight, however, my mind kept drifting back to my mother lying in a hospital bed. My father had always handled situations like this better than I ever could. Whenever life became difficult, he somehow found a way to make everything seem manageable. But my father had been gone for six years, and every day since then had felt like a lesson in surviving without him. Some days I thought I was getting stronger, and other days I wasn't so sure. I delivered drinks to a table near the corner and turned to leave when I noticed three men sitting across the room. They weren't drinking much, which was unusual for people who had been there for almost an hour. More importantly, every time I looked up, one of them seemed to be watching me. It was subtle enough to dismiss, but not subtle enough to ignore completely. At first, I convinced myself I was imagining things. People looked around bars all the time, and I wasn't exactly the center of attention. Yet the strange feeling stayed with me throughout the night. Every time I crossed the room, I felt their eyes following me. By the time the closing hour arrived, I was exhausted. My feet hurt, my back hurt, and my head felt like it was carrying the weight of every problem in my life. I cleaned the last few tables, clocked out, and headed toward the staff room to collect my things. All I wanted was to get home before the last bus left. The rain had started sometime during my shift. It wasn't heavy, but it was enough to leave the pavement wet and shining beneath the streetlights. I zipped up my jacket, adjusted my bag on my shoulder, and stepped outside through the back exit. The cool air felt refreshing after hours spent inside the crowded bar. The parking lot was almost empty except for a few vehicles scattered around the edges. I started walking toward the road, already thinking about whether I should call the hospital again when I got home. My mother hated when I worried, but worrying was impossible to avoid these days. Every conversation with a doctor seemed to bring worse news than the one before. A pair of bright headlights suddenly appeared at the entrance of the lot. I barely paid attention at first because cars came and went all the time. Then the black van turned directly toward me instead of heading for the exit. My steps slowed automatically. The van stopped a few feet away, and the side door slid open. Two men stepped out wearing dark suits that looked expensive enough to cost more than my monthly salary. Everything about them screamed money and professionalism, which somehow made the situation even more unsettling. I immediately took a step backward. "Miss Keshley?" the taller man asked. The fact that he knew my name sent a chill through me. I had never seen either of them before, yet they spoke as though they had been expecting me. My grip tightened around my bag as I looked between them carefully. Every instinct told me to leave. "Who are you?" I asked. "And how do you know my name?" Neither man answered immediately. Instead, they exchanged a quick glance before returning their attention to me. Their silence made my pulse quicken. People with innocent intentions usually didn't act like this. "We need you to come with us," the taller man finally said. I stared at him for a moment, certain I had heard him wrong. Then I laughed, though there wasn't any real humor in it. There was no universe where I was getting into a van with two strangers because they politely asked me to. "No," I said firmly. "I'm going home." The shorter man checked his watch while the taller one sighed softly. They didn't seem angry or frustrated, which somehow made the situation stranger. It was almost as if they had expected resistance from the beginning. That realization made me even more nervous. Before anyone could say another word, another vehicle entered the parking lot. This one was a sleek black sedan that looked far more expensive than the van. It came to a smooth stop nearby, and all three of us turned toward it. The rear door opened a second later. A man stepped out and immediately commanded attention without saying a single word. He wore a dark coat over an expensive suit, and his expression was calm enough to make everyone else seem nervous by comparison. The two men beside me straightened the moment they saw him approaching. He stopped a few feet away and studied me quietly. His gaze moved over me like he was comparing me to something he had already seen before. For several long seconds, nobody spoke. The rain continued falling softly around us. Finally, he nodded once. "It's her." My eyebrows pulled together immediately. The words sounded less like an introduction and more like a confirmation. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked directly at him. "It's her for what?" I asked. The man reached into his coat and removed a folder. He opened it briefly, glanced at the contents, and then looked back at me. Whatever he was checking seemed to satisfy him. "Miss Keshley," he said calmly, "you need to come with us." I shook my head immediately. "Not happening." The man closed the folder and held my gaze. Unlike the others, he didn't seem bothered by my refusal. If anything, he looked as though he expected it. "Then perhaps this will change your mind," he said. His next words made my entire body go still. "This concerns the late Richard Roderick, his son Ethan Roderick, and your father, Daniel Keshley." The blood drained from my face, because for the first time that night, I recognized a nam e. My father had been dead for six years….so why was a stranger bringing him up now?