Haze (The Fosters of New York 2) - Page 56

ny offer from them."

I haven't until now either. Up to this point, the money that I've been receiving from the account that my grandmother set up in my name has been limited to a few hundred dollars a month. It was meant to cover my expenses while I attended Julliard. She had little doubt in her mind that I'd study there and the small offering from her estate was for covering my everyday expenses. A lot has changed now that I'm twenty-one. I'm now entitled to receive everything she willed to me.

"What if I settled with her?" I smooth my hands over the skirt of my dress. "If I did that, she'd drop her lawsuit, right?"

"Your mother's lawsuit has no merit, Isla." He sits upright in his chair. "Your grandmother's will was very clear. Your half-sisters each receive a small lump sum when they reach twenty-one. You inherit all of her properties, investments, and the remainder of her estate."

I don't need to hear that. I've heard it over and over from countless attorneys. The numbers may change slightly as the stocks rise and fall but the bulk of it is several homes in different corners of the world and more money than anyone can spend in their lifetime.

My grandmother and grandfather worked hard their entire lives and when combined with the wealth she inherited when her own father died, it's accumulated to what could be a life of leisure for me. That's not my intention though. My intention is to carry on my grandmother's legacy, including her dream of being a principal violinist with the New York Philharmonic.

"I want this to be over." I tap the top of the papers. "You've already told me that this may drag on for years and years."

"It's a possibility," he admits. "Eventually the case will be heard before a judge. I have no doubt that you'll be awarded everything your grandmother left you."

"My grandmother's heart was so soft." I swallow to curb the emotions I'm feeling. "She loved my mother, but she was disappointed in her."

"Your mother made some unforgiveable decisions." He coughs into his hand. "You know how I feel about the funds that were transferred from your trust account to her."

He's talking about the money I made when I was a child. The truth of what she'd done with that became evidence in the lawsuit that my mother launched more than two years ago in anticipation of my twenty-first birthday and the day I'd inherit everything.

Mr. Ryan has urged me time, and time again, to countersue my mother for that money. I can't do it. It's just money. It will never replace what I lost. I'll never again have a relationship with my mother that is based on trust and unconditional love.

"You can make a counter offer, can't you?" I inch forward in my chair. "You can offer less than she's asking for."

"Isla." He folds his hands together on his desk. "I discourage this, strongly. It wouldn't be a wise move on your part."

"It would end all of this." I wave my hand over the stack of papers in front of me. "It would stop this forever, right?"

"Your mother would have to sign off on the agreement, yes. It would be clear and final."

"What about my sisters?" Hearing myself refer to them that way is hard. My mother has poisoned their memories to the point that neither will even acknowledge I exist. "It wouldn't impact their inheritances, would it?"

"No, not at all." He looks at me. "It would have no bearing on them at all."

"Please present them with a counter offer." I hold up my hand to halt him. "I've considered everything you've told me, but this is my life. I want to get on with it. I want this to be over. Please help me make that happen."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Gabriel

"You sent your driver to get me." She brushes past me as she walks into my office. "Cicely had a million questions about that."

"I'm sure she did." I close the doors, noting Sophia's empty chair. I'd sent her away with a list of mundane errands I've been putting off. I don't want any interruptions.

"You look beautiful, Isla."

Her eyes drop to the blue wrap dress she's wearing. "Thank you, sir. Are you going to fire me?"

I try to contain the smile I feel on my lips. "Fire you? Have you done something that warrants that?"

She rubs her index finger under her nose, just above her top lip. "Is there a rule about opening your dress and showing a customer your lingerie?"

My hand leaps to my tie. The air in the room suddenly feels thick and stifling. "When did that happen?"

"This morning," she says sheepishly.

"You opened this dress and showed someone your body?"

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Fosters of New York Romance
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