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“Carrigan Archibald to see Mr. Worth please.”
There’s a pause, then the speaker crackles a second before there’s a click and the door lock disengages. Wrapping my fingers around the cool brass handle, I push the door open and step into the dark-wood paneled hall, following the same route I took almost four years ago.
The last time I was here I didn’t realize how monumental my visit would be, but this time I’m completely aware that the outcome of today’s meeting will change the trajectory of my future entirely. I’m scared, but determined, and that’s what pushes me forward and into the small waiting room that houses an antique desk, with a stern-faced man in round horn-rimmed glasses sitting behind it.
“Miss Archibald, do you have an appointment?” he asks brusquely.
“I don’t, but I’m confident Mr. Worth will make time to talk with me once you let him know that I’m here,” I say succinctly, using the tone of voice my etiquette coach spent years forcing me to perfect. It’s the tone that says I’m better than you, richer than you, and more powerful than you. It’s the tone that gets a person whatever they want in life. It’s the tone my mother always uses, the tone she taught me to use, the tone I’ve never heard coming from my sister’s mouth, and the tone that will make sure this man doesn’t refuse me.
Just like I knew he would, the man lifts the phone on his desk to his ear, presses a button, and then speaks quietly into the receiver. A moment later he lowers the phone back into the cradle and stands. “Let me show you to Mr. Worth’s office.”
“Thank you,” I say politely, and follow as he leads me out of the reception area and toward the offices.
The lawyer’s office is identical to how I remember it and a horrible sense of de-ja-vu hits me. Nerves make me want to shake, but I refuse to let them. This is the right thing to do. The only thing to do, and for the first time in my life I need to grow a pair of balls and stop being such a coward.
It would be easier to just do as my parents want, to marry Rupert and become a billionaire. But since my sister’s happiness gave me that glimmer of hope, that seed of possibility, I haven’t been able to mindlessly follow orders, to do what my parents say just because they say it.
The moment Dad’s fist struck my beautiful, harmless twin, the rose-tinted veil I’ve been wearing over my eyes for the past four years lifted and I saw myself and my parents for what we truly are. Evil, heartless, power crazed monsters.
“Miss Archibald, it’s a pleasure to see you,” Mr. Worth says, stepping out from behind his desk the moment I enter the room.
“Hello Mr. Worth, I appreciate you making time to see me,” I answer politely, shaking his hand when he offers it.
“Well if you don’t mind me saying, you have grown into an absolute vision of beauty, I’m sure your great-grandfather would be immensely proud of you,” Mr. Worth gushes.
I smile noncommittally as I think that given how I spent my morning, I’m confident my great-grandfather is turning in his grave in horror.
“Please take a seat, can I get you a drink, coffee, tea, soda?” he offers, circling back behind his desk and lowering himself into his huge leather library chair.
“I’m fine thank you. I’d rather just get straight to business if that’s okay?”
His laugh is condescending and indulgent, like I’m an amusing child, and I have to clench my teeth together to stop myself from calling him on his obnoxious behavior.
“Of course, will your parents be joining us?” he asks, his gaze moving to the door as if he expects my parents to enter.
“No, my parents will not be joining us, I’m eighteen now and what I came to discuss has nothing to do with them,” I say crisply.
To the lawyer’s credit, he straightens in his chair, his body language instantly becoming professional. “Of course. My apologies, how can I be of help.”
My hand trembles slightly as I reach into my purse and pull out the envelope containing the doctor’s examination report. “Mr. Worth, as I’m sure you’re aware, my great-grandfather’s will had a lot of clauses and stipulations that I was required to adhere to in order to inherit.”
“Yes,” he says clearing his throat. “It was an unusual bequest, but those were Harold’s wishes.”
“I understand,” I say patiently. “As my great-grandfather’s lawyers and the executors of his will I’m here to make you aware that I am no longer in a position to inherit.”
Mr. Worth’s eyebrows shoot up so quickly that it’s almost comical. “I see,” he says, clearing his throat again.
“Here is a letter from my doctor, confirming my ineligibility to inherit,” I say, placing the envelope on the desk; watching as he pulls it the rest of the distance toward him, removes the letter, and reads it.
Folding my hands together in my lap, I wait silently as he reads the paperwork that confirms I’m no longer a virgin. I can’t look at him, so I scan the wall behind him, staring at the frames that hold degree certificates and other qualifications, until he clears his throat yet again and I’m forced to divert my attention back to him.
“Miss Archibald, are you sure—” he begins.
“Mr. Worth,” I say interrupting him. “My great-grandfather’s will is the most toxic thing that has ever happened to my family. I’m not entirely sure what his hope was when he wrote it, but I can confidently say that it didn’t do what he intended it would. His stipulations didn’t make me an honorable person of upstanding moral fortitude like he said it would. All his rules did was destroy my family and make me justify mine and my parents’ appalling behavior if it was in line with his wishes and in pursuit of this inheritance.”
The older man’s eyes widen but I keep speaking, needing him to understand, at least a little, why I’m here.
“If there was the option to walk away from this money I would have taken it, but he forced me into a position where he tied me to this life for another seven years. I’m confident when I say that if I continue to live for the next seven years the way I have been for the last four, there will be nothing redeemable about me left. I want to break this will. I want to be free to try to put my life back together again in some semblance of a way where I can live with myself, and I can’t do that until this money is as far away from me as physically possible. That letter is real and I have more proof should I need it, but I’m hoping that I won’t.”
Mr. Worth’s lips are downturned, his expression sad. Lifting his phone from his desk he brings it to his ear, his eyes not leaving mine as he speaks into it. “Could you ask Neville to come to my office please, I need something notarized.”
