Luca shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “The apartment is yours, Jessi. Keep it. Stay here with the kids. I’m not going to struggle.”
“Why is that?”
His smirk widened into a cold, triumphant smile. “Because in a few months, I’m going to be wealthier than ever.”
“In a few months?” I asked.
Then he said it out loud:
“My dad isn’t going to last much longer. When he passes, the company, his estate, and all his accounts belong to me. So don’t worry about my finances.”
The double doors to the study swung open.
Arthur stepped into the foyer, leaning heavily on his walking cane. “Not everything belongs to you, Luca.”
Luca went ash-white. The blood drained from his face so fast he looked like a ghost.
“Dad…?”
“I just stood here and listened to you counting down the days until my death,” Arthur said, his voice dropping into a deadly, quiet register.
Luca immediately pointed a trembling finger at me. “She filled your head with lies! She’s manipulating you!”
“You filled my ears with your own voice,” Arthur replied coldly.
He pulled a set of notarized documents from his coat pocket. “I updated my trust and final estate directives.”
Luca snatched the papers from his father’s hand. He read the first page standing right there under the chandelier. Then the second page. His eyes widened in sheer horror.
“What… what is this?!”
“My final will and testament,” Arthur stated.
“You left the controlling shares of the company to Jessi?!”
“The majority voting shares, yes.”
“And what did you leave to me?!”
Arthur met his son’s frantic gaze with unyielding stone. “Nothing.”
I will never forget the suffocating silence that fell over the foyer.
Luca looked as if he couldn’t get air into his lungs. “I’m your only son!”
“Which is precisely why I am deeply ashamed to hear you calculating how many months I have left to live.”
Luca exploded into a blind fury, shouting that I had preyed on a sick old man, that I had violated his privacy, that I was stealing his rightful birthright.
In the middle of his tirade, fourteen-year-old Kelly appeared at the top of the stairs, clutching her robe.
“Dad?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Are you leaving us?”
The room went dead silent.
My daughter looked down at the packed suitcases sitting by the door. “Is that why you’re never home anymore?”