by Layne, Ivy
“Griffen is the executor of all the trusts. Excepting the money in the Heartstone trust, Griffen has control over all of your trust funds. If he wants to keep every penny for himself, he’s more than welcome to. I would. And who knows? He walked out on you just like he walked out on me, so maybe he will.”
Beside me, Hope sucked in a breath. I was right there with her. That was some serious revisionist history. I hadn’t walked anywhere. I’d been tossed out and told never to set foot in town again.
My father went on with his insanity, every word that came out of his mouth stacking the crazy a little higher.
“If each of you agrees to move back into Heartstone Manor and do what you’re told for Griffen the way you never did for me, Griffen will release your funds to you after five years. If he hasn’t spent it all on himself, that is.
“Ownership of Heartstone Manor as well as Sawyer Enterprises and associated business interests all pass to Griffen. The Inn, the brewery, the real estate, the investment portfolio… All of it is Griffen’s. He can live comfortably off that income, as I did. If that’s not enough he can loot your trusts and buy himself a fleet of yachts.”
His eyes came back to me. I stiffened, grateful when Hope’s hand closed over my arm.
“Griffen. Bet you’re feeling pretty smug right now. You walked away and now you have it all. Well, brace yourself and get ready for the stinger.”
At that, the screen went black.
Chapter Four
Hope
So, what’s the stinger?” Griffen’s brother Royal cut into the babble of voices, getting right to the point.
Stinger.
I didn’t like the sound of that. I’d known Prentice Sawyer my entire life. He hadn’t left Griffen everything as a reward, as some kind of recompense for kicking him out years before. No, this was just another punishment, a final stab in the back from beyond the grave.
Sitting in silence beside Griffen, I wanted to disappear. I wanted to get up and walk out, to get in my car and drive until I hit the ocean.
I needed to stay exactly where I was. Griffen’s siblings looked at him with suspicion and dislike. They were strangers, and Griffen hadn’t asked for any of this. He wasn’t my biggest fan—for good reason—but I was the only one here who was on his side.
Harvey rolled his shoulders, and the entire room braced.
“There are conditions,” he began. “You have until Tuesday to relocate to Heartstone Manor. You may leave for a total of fourteen days every quarter, but your primary residence must be Heartstone for the next five years.”
“And if we don’t?” Royal asked.
“If you don’t, your trust will be dissolved, the balance added to the Heartstone Manor trust, and you’ll be barred from family property. Including your place of employment, if applicable.”
Royal sat back and let out a low whistle. “He’s got us over a barrel.”
“Fuck that,” Sterling said, throwing out a hand that almost smacked Quinn in the face. “We’ll just do that thing. What’s it called? Protest it! We’ll protest the will.”
“Contest it, you mean,” Brax corrected with a withering glare at his sister.
“Whatever,” Sterling mumbled, looking balefully into the open mouth of her empty flask.
“Can we?” Quinn asked after sending Sterling a worried look.
Harvey slowly shook his head. “I don’t recommend it. If you choose to contest the will, the will as written is void, and everything—the trusts, the house, the various entities owned by Sawyer Enterprises—all go to your cousin Bryce.”
Bryce. I slumped back into my chair. Prentice was a bastard, but he knew his children. He might have spent most of their lives playing them against each other, but they were united in their hatred of their cousin Bryce.
For good reason. Bryce was spoiled, selfish, and mean. He’d been a nasty little boy and from what I’d seen he hadn’t improved with age. The idea of Bryce walking away with the Sawyer fortune made me a little sick. I wasn’t the only one. The faces around the conference table all looked faintly green.
“I guess I’m moving back home,” Finn said under his breath, with a sidelong glance at Royal and another at Tenn.
“Make whatever arrangements are necessary and be prepared to move into Heartstone by Tuesday at midnight,” Harvey finished, checking his watch.
“Does it really matter?” Sterling shot out. “Griffen’s going to loot our trusts anyway.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Griffen across the table. Griffen stared back at her, his face hard as stone.
Quinn wrapped her hand around her younger sister’s arm and pulled her to her feet. “I guess we’re just going to have to take that risk, huh?”
She gave Griffen an appraising look before she turned to leave. Over her shoulder, she met Harvey’s eye. “That’s it? We’re free to go? And we get our money in five years if we behave and Griffen doesn’t spend it all on hookers and blow?”
“That’s about it,” Harvey agreed.
“See y’all on Tuesday then,” she said and pulled Sterling from the room.
I watched in silence as the rest of Griffen’s siblings trickled out, grumbling to themselves. Royal paused at the door, looking back at Griffen as if he wanted to say something. Tenn came up behind him, shoving at his shoulder to move him through the doorway. Royal shook his head and went.
In a low voice only Griffen and I could hear, Harvey said, “You two stay put. We’re not done.”
Beside me, Griffen didn’t say a word. Was he in shock, or did he still hate us all this much? I didn’t have time to think about it. When the room was empty of everyone but the three of us, Harvey walked to the door and leaned out. He said something to the receptionist before closing the door and flipping the lock.
Pushing the cart with the screen away from the table, he sat, flattening his palms on the shiny surface. He appeared to be lost in thought. I wondered what was left—paperwork probably—when Griffen cut into the quiet.
“The thing with Bryce wasn’t the stinger, was it?”
Harvey shook his head. Not in denial. In remorse. “You always were a sharp one, Griffen.”
“So?” Griffen prompted.
Harvey sucked in a breath and let it out slowly before he dropped the ax. “To fulfill the requirements of the will you and Hope have to get married. It has to be a real marriage, and it has to last at least five years. If either of you refuses, the will as I explained it to you earlier is void and everything goes to Bryce.”
Griffen let out a breath as if he’d been punched in the gut and sank back in his chair. I felt like he looked. My lungs were too tight. I couldn’t get any air.
Marry Griffen? What the hell?
Marry Griffen?
Why? What purpose could it serve? I struggled to find the logic. Prentice was cruel, but he never did anything without a reason. Neither did my Uncle Edgar.
Edgar had called that morning and ordered me to attend the service and reading in his place, claiming a headache. Uncle Edgar didn’t get headaches, even after late nights with too much whiskey, but I did as I was told. Now it all made sense.
There had been no headache, and Uncle Edgar was as much the architect of this disaster as Prentice.
Why?
He wanted me to marry Griffen. It was a brutal irony. Ten-year-old Hope had dreamed of growing up to marry Griffen Sawyer. Instead, he’d been driven from Sawyers Bend, hating all of us.
Me most of all.
With good reason. If his attitude in the last two days was any indication, he still hated me. I didn’t blame him. I deserved it.
I was the reason he’d lost the fiancée he’d loved. Now, he’d be forced to marry me in her place.
I couldn’t do it.
I didn’t have a choice.
How could Prentice ask
this of him?
Stupid question. Prentice wouldn’t have cared how Griffen felt. Prentice Sawyer cared about nothing but himself.
Beside me, Griffen croaked out a single word, the one I couldn’t stop thinking.
“Why?”
Harvey shook his head, looking between the two of us. “I don’t know the why. The only thing I know is the how. I’m sorry. I tried to talk him out of it.”
“What if I’d been married? Seeing someone?” Griffen asked.
“He knew you weren’t.”
“What happens if one of us dies before the five years is up?” Griffen pressed.
Harvey raised an eyebrow. “One Sawyer in jail for murder is enough for now, don’t you think?”
Griffen scowled at Harvey, then at me. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It would solve a few problems,” I commented dryly.
“This isn’t funny,” Griffen said, still scowling at me.
“No, it’s not,” I agreed.
“To answer your question,” Harvey said, “It depends. If either of you dies, everything goes to Bryce, unless there’s a child. If there’s a child, he or she inherits with the surviving parent as guardian. Unless you’re both dead, then Royal would be the guardian.”
“And if something happens to the child?” I asked, my stomach pitching at the idea of my future offspring at the mercy of Bryce’s greed.
“If something were to happen to the child, Royal would inherit.”
“And we can’t contest it?” I had to ask, even though I knew the answer.
“You can,” Harvey said, “but I don’t recommend it. The will is legal. If anyone contests the will, Griffen’s trusteeship is revoked, the trusts are dissolved, and all funds go to Bryce. And that’s not your biggest problem.”
All at once the picture came into focus, and I knew what Harvey meant. “If we contest the will, Griffen can’t take over Sawyer Enterprises. He can’t access the bank accounts, can’t sign payroll checks.”
Griffen finished, “It’s the same as just walking away. By the time everything is sorted out in court, the town would be dead.”
“In all likelihood, Bryce would win anyway,” Harvey added.
“And you have no idea why?” I pressed.
Harvey gave me a remorseful look. “Prentice didn’t share his motives with me, Hope. You know who you can ask, but I doubt you’ll get an answer.”
Harvey Benson was Uncle Edgar’s lawyer, too. He knew who he was dealing with. Harvey was a tool to Prentice and Edgar, just like the rest of us.
I looked down at my hands in my lap, my nails short and unpolished. Invisible bars pressed on me, squeezing the air from my lungs. I was in a cage. I’d been in a cage for so long I’d gotten used to it, trapped by loyalty and history and obligation.
My uncle had saved me. I owed him everything. He never let me forget it.
This was my life. Stuck in the cage of this town, working for my uncle, doing what I was told. I’d given up on any dreams to the contrary not long after Griffen had been exiled. I’d grown so used to it I went months at a time without remembering that once I’d been a different woman. A different girl.
But this—trapping Griffen in the cage with me—this was wrong. He’d gotten out. He had a life, friends, a career he loved. I’d followed him over the years, unable to keep from picking at the wound. Unable to forgive myself for what I’d done.
“This isn’t fair,” I whispered.
Harvey gave me a sad smile. “You do this job long enough, sweetheart, you realize nothing is fair. Do you want to hear the terms?”
Chapter Five
Hope
Lay it on us,” Griffen said, his voice grim.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, couldn’t stand to see the accusation I knew was in his eyes. He’d think I was in on it. Of course, he would. How many women had dangled after that position? Lady of the Manor. Wife to the Sawyer heir.
Not me. Never me. I’d had girlish dreams, but I’d never imagined I could fill that role. Even back then, when I’d ruined his engagement, I never thought to take her place.
How could I? It was only that she’d been wrong for him. She’d been a nightmare, not that it excused what I’d done.
Harvey’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “You have to be married for five years, as I said. To the outside world, it’s a love match. No one can know about the will, excluding the three of us, I’m assuming Edgar, and your witness.”
“Witness?” I asked, not understanding. Did he mean the witness to the ceremony? Why would they need to know?
“Apparently, Prentice didn’t trust either of you to adhere to the spirit of the arrangement. It has to be real. No separate bedrooms. No separate lives. No adultery. You can’t be apart for more than twelve hours at a time in the first year. No more than thirty-six hours at a time for the remaining four years or until you’ve produced two children. The witness is there to provide testimony, if needed, that you’re conducting yourselves according to the terms. And Hope has to sign a prenup. If you divorce in five years, she gets nothing from the Sawyer estate.”
“That’s bullshit,” Griffen said. “She gives up five years of her life and she gets nothing?”
“I don’t want anything.” Dizzy, unable to draw breath, my heart pounded against my ribs, beating against its own cage, desperate to take flight. Sitting beside Griffen, I appeared composed, but on the inside, I was screaming.
I couldn’t do this. I could read between the lines. They didn’t just want me to marry him, they wanted me to have his children. I had no illusions about how a custody battle would work out once Griffen divorced me.
I had to be realistic. I didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he was capable of. Not anymore. Pushing back my chair, I rose, not sure where I was going. I paced to the window and stared through the blinds, seeing nothing.
Behind me, I heard Griffen say something to Harvey. Harvey excused himself, the door shutting with a click as he left. I couldn’t bring myself to turn around.
“You didn’t know,” I heard Griffen say.
I forced myself to turn. He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched me appraisingly, his sandy blond hair falling into his eyes. I thought I’d exaggerated him in my memories, the strong line of his jaw, the sea green of his eyes. All these years later and he still stopped my heart.
I was too shocked to bother with anything but the truth. “I had no idea. I didn’t know why I was here. Uncle Edgar said he had a headache, asked me to come in his place. They sent me to Atlanta to get you because they didn’t think you’d—”
“They didn’t think I’d come back if one of my siblings showed up, right?”
I shrugged a shoulder. It had made sense at the time. Now I could see it had been nothing more than an elaborate ruse.
“This is absurd,” I said. “You don’t want to marry me.”
“You don’t want to marry me either,” Griffen said.
“No, I don’t,” I agreed. I’d stolen one fiancée from Griffen Sawyer. The last thing I wanted was to saddle him with one he didn’t want.
He came closer, close enough for me to feel the heat of his body, smell the faint woodsy scent of him. Spice and green trees. It was winter, but he reminded me of fall, of brightly-colored leaves and bonfires, pumpkins and apple festivals. I wanted to curl up in that scent and—
Get your head straight, Hope. None of this is about you. You’re a tool and you don’t even know what you’re being used for.
“Edgar and Prentice did this. Did it occur to either of them that you might say no?” Griffen asked gently.
My laugh startled me. “I’m sure it didn’t,” I admitted.
In all their machinations, I doubted Uncle Edgar or Prentice Sawyer had considered that I wouldn’t do exactly what I was told.
“Am I what?” I asked, stalling
“Going to say no?”
“Are you?” I asked, curious.
Either of us could walk away and damn the consequences. We didn’t have to do this.
He tilted his head to the side as he studied me. “Why wouldn’t I? I have everything to gain. Prentice didn’t leave me a trust, but if I marry you, I get everything. The house, the company, you—so why wouldn’t I?”
I couldn’t tell if he was asking or taunting. It didn’t matter. I replied honestly, “You don’t want any of that. You know you don’t.”
The mask dropped from Griffen’s face as he let out a long breath, his eyes angry. Trapped. I knew what that looked like. I saw it in the mirror often enough.
“No, I don’t. No offense.”
“None taken,” I said, automatically, lying only a little. I knew what I was. My uncle’s boring lackey. I wasn’t hideous, wasn’t stupid, but there was nothing particularly appealing about me either. Nothing that would attract a man like Griffen.
“What do you get out of it?” he asked. “The prestige of being the lady of Heartstone Manor?” There was laughter in his voice.
I let a small smile curve my lips. I hadn’t changed that much. “Sure,” I said, “I’ll start throwing tea parties and join the Junior League.”
“Then why, Hope? Why haven’t you walked out of here yet? What does Edgar have on you?”
So many years away, but Griffen still remembered how things worked around here. Layers of loyalty and history, secrets and lies. My motives were simple. I didn’t have any secrets, no lies to protect, but I did have loyalty. Loyalty and a lifetime of debt.
I owed Griffen. I owed Uncle Edgar. I owed this town. “When Uncle Edgar brought me home, this town was good to me. You and I are the only thing standing between Sawyers Bend and Bryce.”
Griffen barked out a laugh. “Jesus, when you put it like that—”
“You know what he would do. If anyone could burn through the Sawyer fortune, it’s Bryce.”
He was exactly the kind of idiot who’d buy himself a dozen Lamborghinis, throw a million at the roulette wheel just because he could, who’d sell off everything for one more dollar to spend.