Chapter 15
Chapter 15:
“We’re family, Jocelyn,” Robert tried, switching to his benevolent patriarch tone. “We can work this out. You don’t want to start a war p>
“A war?” Jocelyn laughed — a dry, humorless sound. “You people have been sieging me for years. I’m just firing back p>
“The fifteen percent,” Robert said suddenly, dropping his voice to a near-whisper.
Jocelyn went still. “What about it p>
“Your grandmother’s shares in the Wolfe Group,” Robert said. “You know they were tied up in the same trust. The marriage clause gives you proxy control now. Alongside the house p>
“I do p>
“I need you to sign a waiver,” Robert said, stepping closer. “Just a formality. To keep the voting block together. If you don’t —” He trailed off, letting the threat hang in the air.
“If I don’t, what?” Jocelyn challenged. “You’ll cut me off? I’m already cut off p>
𝘙𝗲𝘢𝖽 w𝗶𝘵𝘩𝗼𝗎𝗍 i𝗻𝘵𝗲r𝗿𝗎𝘱𝗍𝗂𝗼𝗇s o𝗇
She pulled out her phone. “Actually, since we’re talking business — I’m looking at an email from the trust’s legal team right now. They’ve already flagged several years of questionable fund transfers. All it takes is my authorization to launch a full forensic audit. I want to know where the dividends from those fifteen percent have been going for the last five years, while Grandma has been indisposed p>
Robert’s face went grey. The color drained out of him so fast he looked like a corpse.
“You wouldn’t,” he whispered.
“Try me,” Jocelyn said. “Unless p>
“Unless what?” Robert asked, desperation bleeding into his voice.
“Unless Elouise shuts up. Unless Aspen goes back to Boston for a month. And unless you leave me the hell alone p>
Robert stared at her. He ran the calculations behind his eyes and arrived at the answer she already knew — he knew what an audit would find. Embezzlement, funneled into Aspen’s lifestyle.
“Fine,” he croaked. “Dinner tonight. We’ll formalize the truce p>
“I’ll be there,” Jocelyn said. “But I’m not eating p>
Robert retreated into the house.
Jocelyn stood alone on the porch. The Hazmat team was now carrying out armfuls of curtains, stripping the room to its bones.
She took out her phone and opened the message thread with Gaston. She snapped a photo of the empty window frame where the curtains used to hang.
Sent: Cleaned house. Literally.
She stared at the screen, heart thumping. Would he reply? Did he care? Or was he just another man using her for a transaction?
Three dots appeared instantly.
Gaston: Good. I have a business dinner tonight. Won’t be home. Stay safe.
Jocelyn stared at the words. Won’t be home.
It was a reminder. He had a life — a life that didn’t include her beyond the signature on a piece of paper. He was probably with his real partner, the one he actually cared about.
“Right,” she whispered, shoving the phone back into her pocket. “Strictly business p>
The dining room of the Wolfe estate was a cavernous space, dimly lit by a crystal chandelier that hadn’t been dusted in months. The silence was heavy, broken only by the scrape of silver against china.