Chapter 2 - The Will That Divided the Family
The reading of Silas Hale’s will took place in a glass-walled conference room overlooking downtown.
Victor sat at the head of the table before the attorney arrived.
Marianne sat beside him, wearing black and holding a handkerchief she never used. Chloe scrolled through her phone until Victor gave her a warning look.
Elara took the seat nearest the window.
Silas’s attorney, Amelia Grant, entered carrying three sealed folders.
She was a composed woman in her late fifties who had represented Silas for more than twenty years.
Victor greeted her with the confidence of someone expecting good news.
“Let’s make this efficient,” he said. “There are several companies that need immediate leadership.”
Amelia placed the folders on the table.
“Your father already selected temporary leadership.”
Victor’s smile faded.
“Temporary?”
“The board will operate the businesses during the estate review.”
“I am the vice president.”
“You are one of three vice presidents.”
Victor leaned back.
“I’m his son.”
Amelia met his stare.
“And the company is not a family dining table.”
She began reading.
Silas left charitable donations to hospitals, veterans’ organizations, and housing programs. Several longtime employees received financial gifts. The family home went to Marianne, while Victor received shares in two companies, subject to a complete audit.
At the word audit, Victor’s hand tightened around his pen.
Chloe received a trust that would pay for education, medical expenses, or approved business ventures. She would not receive direct access to the principal for five years.
“What?” Chloe snapped.
Marianne placed a hand on her arm.
Amelia continued.
Elara received apartment 5A, its contents, and full control of a separate property trust created by Silas.
Victor sat forward.
“What separate property trust?”
Amelia slid a folder toward Elara.
“The apartment was transferred before Mr. Hale’s death. It is not part of the estate.”
“That building belongs to the Hale Group,” Victor said.
“Most of it does. Apartment 5A does not.”
“You can’t remove one unit from the company.”
“Your father could. He did.”
Victor looked at Elara as though she had arranged the entire thing.
“Did you know?”
She thought of the hospital room and the silver key.
“I knew he wanted me to keep the apartment.”
“You manipulated him.”
Elara’s head turned sharply.
Marianne intervened.
“Victor, everyone is emotional.”
“No. Father was sick. She visited him constantly. She isolated him from the rest of us.”
“I sat with him,” Elara replied. “You brought financial papers for him to sign.”
Victor pushed his chair back.
“You have no right to judge me.”
Amelia closed the will.
“There is one additional condition.”
Everyone looked at her.
“If any beneficiary attempts to gain control of another beneficiary’s inheritance through fraud, coercion, forged documentation, or unauthorized transfer, that person’s remaining inheritance will be redirected to the Silas Hale Housing Foundation.”
Victor gave a bitter laugh.
“He put a punishment clause in his will?”
“He called it a protection clause.”
Chloe finally set down her phone.
“How much is the apartment worth?”
Elara looked at her.
“That isn’t the point.”
“Of course it’s the point.”
Amelia answered before Elara could.
“Based on recent sales in the building, approximately 3.8 million dollars.”
Marianne inhaled softly.
Victor said nothing.
But Elara saw the calculation begin behind his eyes.
After the meeting, he stopped her near the elevator.
“You don’t need a place worth nearly four million dollars.”
“It’s my home.”
“You could sell it and invest the money in the family company.”
“Grandpa specifically protected it from the family company.”
His expression hardened.
“You think Father trusted you more than he trusted me?”
Elara pressed the elevator button.
“I think he knew you better than I did.”
The elevator doors opened.
Before stepping inside, she looked back at him.
“Don’t make him right.”
Victor smiled coldly.
“He was an old man who enjoyed games.”
The doors began closing.
May you like
Elara heard his final words through the narrowing gap.
“And games can always be replayed.”
