[House of Morgan 01.0 - 03.0] Boxed Set

by Victoria Pinder

  "I was cut off in all things except a bank account that was always supplied. I've never been poor a day in my life."

  "What happened to the money, then, if you didn't touch it?"

  "My rebellious side kicked in and I set up an investment portfolio. The millions grew much higher as my way of showing him that if he kept sending it to me, then I'd not touch a dime. I never told him though."

  "So even if you get nothing, you're far from poor?"

  "Let's not talk about the billion."

  Wrong answer. He clearly didn't wish to clarify his vision of a future, though billion meant he could afford whatever happened to him. She picked up her toast and walked toward the garage to get in the car. "Is it empty now?"

  His booted steps sounded behind her. "Absolutely not. The interest alone keeps building the stockpile."

  She squared her shoulders and turned around to glare at him. Then she saw how he slumped, and her heart softened. Today he had enough on his shoulders without her adding to it. "Then it doesn't matter what is in the will."

  "It matters to me."

  She almost ripped open the car door and listened to the exterior house door slam as John closed and locked it before getting into the driver's seat. "Why?"

  He started the car, but his body was stiff. He swallowed, refused to look at her, and backed out of the garage to the driveway. "Today we go to my brother's house. It used to be mine, too."

  The will reading might be a reason for the no last night—if it weighed on his mind. She uncurled her fists, realizing she was tense, and tried to relax. She stared out the window and reminded herself that she was not Cinderella. She had her own issues to deal with, like finding a new buyer for her farm goods, and calling her brother to talk about mom.

  He turned onto the highway toward Star Island. "The home where you grew up has already transformed in your mind."

  His grip on the car wheel tightened. They were heading to Peter's house unusually fast for Miami, but they'd missed rush hour. "Yeah. I wouldn't call the place a home. Most days it felt like a prison."

  "Most people's prisons aren't nearly so nice, and Vicki is there now. There is a reason to be happy." Alice had so many questions for her old best friend, but John's hardness right now took up all of her emotional room. She tugged her dress to her knees. "You haven't even talked to Peter yet today, and you already have that guard up. If you walk in this way, you're liable to snap."

  He turned off the highway. They were close to the mansion now. Silence filled the air until he parked in front of the house that looked the same. John said, "I don't trust him."

  Happy times. She had to help him stay positive. "Okay. Then who cares what you get in the will, then? Peter is the only one left."

  He removed his sunglasses and tossed them on the dashboard, turning to her with his blue eyes that sparkled with righteousness. "I don't care."

  "Why are you here?"

  He gulped and some of the tension left his body. "Curiosity. I'd lay odds that Dad left me nothing but a note of contempt."

  She shook her head. "He wouldn't."

  His brow wrinkled. "How can you be sure?"

  He should know his father better than her. Mitch Morgan's reputation was well known. "He wanted to be remembered as a god amongst men. I can't imagine he'd cut you out of the will. What if somebody found out?"

  The last time he spoke to his father, he had accused him of murdering his sister. His father's lie included a funeral and with that track record, anything was possible in the will reading today. He sat in his seat, like her words were bullets. "I don't want to think about it."

  "Let it go. We should go inside." She opened her car door. A second later he did the same and stood up. He slammed his car door. As he walked over to her, she asked, "Where do you see your sister living, once this is over?"

  She accepted his offered hand, receiving strength that empowered her to do almost anything. He didn't answer her question until they'd reached the door. "Not here."

  He pressed the doorbell. She fixed her dress as the walls made her feel inferior and forbidden from the entrance. "Any ideas why Vicki wanted me here?"

  He turned toward her. Their gazes met. "You'll have to ask her. Please remember every word she says to you about why she pretended to be dead."

  Footsteps echoed from right outside the door. She lowered her voice, "Do you want me to spy on her?"

  He answered fast. "No. I want to compare notes. If something happened to her, then I want to help her if I can."

  A Hispanic older woman answered the door. Alice felt a chill as they walked inside. She kept his hand in hers. "Okay. I'm not going to worry about it, but I'm hoping Jennifer isn't there."

  John's hand brushed against her shoulder. "Don't let the actress get to you."

  She stared at his broad chest and let his words float into her heart. He was right. "I know I shouldn't."

  "I saw you handle your mother. You can handle Jennifer."

  She smiled. Other than the constant teasing and lying to her mother, John Morgan tried to take care of her and watch out for her. Perhaps once this was over, she'd get answers to her own questions. "After everything goes down here, can we relax and go out to dinner? I want to go to your favorite place growing up."

  Laughter echoed from upstairs. Victoria was close. John gazed up the flight of stairs, but then returned his focus on her. He lowered his voice. "That's dangerous."

  The tension in the car had been palatable and Alice hoped that with the right atmosphere, he'd relax and laugh again. John had to be wrong about being a target as the FBI never called. Soon she'd end this farce, but for now, she shrugged her shoulders. "You'll protect me."

  High heels clicked on the stairs above them. "Anywhere I want to go?"

  Vicki's bare legs in her floral sundress came into view. Alice placed her hand on his arm. "I want to see the world you grew up in and your favorite hang outs. So take me someplace that the House of Morgan frequented without me, Vicki's tag-along."

  John smiled up at Vicki and then frowned as Peter, in his usual power suit, followed right behind their sister down the flight of stairs. He scooted closer to Alice. "Vicki never said that."

  Alice squeezed his hand. "Your dad did."

  Peter ushered Vicki and John down the hall, but John kept Alice's hand firm in his as she shied back. "Stay with me."

  Peter walked ahead of them and into the lofted ceiling dining room. Alice whispered, "You are capable of handling your brother by yourself, but I'm here if you need me."

  John's shoulders were tense, as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Standing at the end of the table, Peter beckoned them into the room. "Please sit."

  Alice turned around to greet her friend. Vicki had been right behind them. She raised her hand to her chin and asked, "Where is Victoria?"

  Peter sat in their father's chair, and opened a file like he was about to run a business meeting. Then he arranged his seat to ensure it was more like a throne and acted like their father. "She's coming."

  John followed his brother's gestures, crossed his legs like he was the challenger in a boxing room, and took a seat beside him.

  Two lawyers in black suits and carrying brief cases walked into the room from the kitchen door and sat opposite them. Peter's reflection shone in the polished wood and even his posture mimicked their father as he stretched in his chair. John raised his eyebrows and asked, "Why is this so formal?"

  Peter refused to answer the question. Instead his gaze met Alice's as she sat beside John. Peter then asked, "Are you sure you wish Ms. Collins to be with you right now?"

  John held firm, and his gaze never wavered. He said, "Absolutely."

  Peter said no more. She wasn't sure what to do, so she stayed silent. Then Vicki walked into the room and her dress floated as if she were an angel. She passed both of her brothers who offered her small smiles as she sat next to Peter. Her smile was the only warmth in the room.

  Alice sat straighter in her seat as all
the Morgans turned to stare at the lawyers.

  One of the lawyers said, "Let's get this started."

  Alice scooted her chair so her hand could stay in John's. The chair squeaked as she moved and everyone glanced at her. Her face heated, but she said nothing. John's fingers locked with hers.

  The lawyer continued and read the will as the other took notes on a yellow sheet of paper. "Being of sound mind and in the presence of witnesses, I hereby bequeath my estate as follows."

  John shook his head. "This should be so much fun."

  Peter's entire body stilled. Whatever the paper said affected him the most, at least in Alice's view. He placed both his hands on the table as he whispered, "Don't be a hypocrite. We skipped the burial."

  John's eyebrows quirked. "Because someone might shoot us."

  "Neither of us wanted to be there."

  "To my son, John…"

  John's hand tugged on hers, and she tried to be his rock.

  He held his head high as the lawyer said, "He never proved in his life that he could take care of himself or anyone else. I leave him one hundred million dollars and ten percent stock in all my companies, so he'll never have to."

  John released her hand, his body so tight if he turned he might break. "I always loved the faith he had in me."

  Alice massaged his leg until he took her hand again and then whispered to him. "John, don't worry about what he thought."

  Their knees touched. John's temple pulsed. "I have a plan, Alice."

  She pushed his water glass in front of him and urged him to drink. "Let it go," she said. "You're fine."

  John pressed his hand on her leg that she entwined with his and said nothing else.

  The lawyer continued. "In memory of my daughter Victoria, who was a disappointment in the end, I leave one hundred million dollars with no stock shares, to various charities for unwed mothers and adoption agencies. May newborns benefit from her tragedy as she always told us to care about children first."

  Victoria scoffed and gazed around Peter toward John. "He's a total jerk. Is it too late to dance on his grave?"

  John turned his chair to stare at his sister. "What does this mean to you, Vicki?"

  Victoria shook her head and refused to reveal what happened to her years ago. Instead she said, "That Dad doesn't deserve one more second of my time."

  Peter must have done the math in his head of the billions left over. He said, "I'll match the one hundred million, Vicki. Don't stress about money."

  Victoria beamed her happiness. "I'm going to open a dress shop, be creative, and design wedding dresses. In life, he'd never have allowed me to go into retail."

  Peter scowled. Alice swallowed. The idea of a Morgan working must have soured his mood.

  John saw the same reaction. He tilted his head and said, "I'll fund your business idea, Vicki."

  Vicki shrugged and didn't seem to notice any issues between her brothers. She simply said, "Thanks."

  Alice pressed her knees closer to John. Neither John nor Victoria might have the power to change Peter's mind about her own contract. She had to search for a buyer and probably shouldn't be here. What kept her glued to her seat was that John might need her.

  "Six hundred million dollars was left to various people that I won't read, unless requested." No one said anything. The lawyer then continued, "And finally my son, Peter. He has proven a sound mind in business and will do well with my business ventures. I do hope he forgets his promise to remain a bachelor and finds himself a wife. He receives the remainder of my estate, my house, my various holdings, and everything else I own."

  Peter took in a breath as if he'd held it the entire time the lawyer read. He smiled at last. "I figured. I'll have the money drawn up for you, Vicki. And John, there is always a place for you in Morgan Enterprises, if you want it."

  Vicki shrugged her shoulders as she stood up to go. "Doesn't matter, Peter. Right now I want to open my dress shop, but thank you."

  John pushed his chair back to get up as well. Alice followed him, happy this was over.

  "It's not done," the lawyer then said. They all readjusted their seats. The other lawyer held his pen like his life depended on it. "If Peter ends up childless, the remainder upon his death should go to John's heirs. If neither of my sons has children, then the remainder should convert to the designee I left in my lawyer's files that is only to be opened on these conditions."

  John sat straighter and asked the lawyer, "Who would Dad leave everything to if we all wind up childless?"

  Peter leaned in his chair like he too wanted to ask, but then he straightened. "Doesn't matter."

  John turned to him and argued, "Yes it does."

  Peter glanced at Vicki and the closed his eyes. "No, it doesn't. This doesn't matter at all."

  John shook his head, clearly upset with his brother. He whispered to Alice, "I'm going to find out."

  Her mind raced. "How?"

  John pushed his chair back again, ready to leave. "Dahle, I don't want to be here anymore."

  Alice followed. "Agreed."

  Peter's fingers tapped on the table as he clearly considered this a threat of some sort. "If the money and company are mine, then it's mine to do with as I see fit at my own death."

  "Legally, that's true." The lawyer sat up straighter. "Your father just wanted you to know he had a plan."

  Peter leaned back in his chair as if satisfied he'd won the argument as he said, "I don't care what my father intended. I'll still leave the company to a pet monkey if I want to and he doesn't get a say from the grave."

  "You don't have a monkey." Vicki placed her hand on his.

  "I might when I get older. I told him I'd never have an heir."

  John stood and the tension in his body snapped. He pressed his hands on the table and shook his head. "That's what you focus on? As long as you get the money and the company then who cares about everyone else? Aren't you curious who Dad would leave his fortune to?"

  "You didn't ask about the six hundred million dollars, which are probably half-siblings." Peter stood and leaned on the table as if they were opponents. "And so we're clear, I'm already investigating a few people who are probably our family as well. Dad used to take me to a woman's house. She had children our age. Whoever Dad designated doesn't matter. The money is ours. The House of Morgan continues through whatever children we have."

  The lawyer shrunk in his chair. "This part is unenforceable."

  There was no way to enforce Dad's wishes, but John's shoulders hunched and Alice could tell he wanted to know who was next on their father's list. "You are unbelievable."

  Peter leaned closer, ready for a fight. "It's my life, John. I worked too hard for this."

  Alice glanced at Victoria for one second who nodded at her, indicating they could talk later. She grabbed John's arm and tugged him toward the door. "Let's go."

  He stared at Vicki and Peter, then took her hand. His hands shook with his emotion, but he said nothing. They walked out in silence.

  Chapter 19

  Hours later, evening began to set, and they were done with the paperwork that the lawyer had chased him down to sign.

  John tried to think of the right words to say to Alice as they got into his car, but nothing came to mind. He'd promised her a night out. The image of the red laser pointed to her head replayed in his mind and he didn't want to go anywhere but home.

  The heaviness in the air wasn't the humidity. He turned toward the Rickenbacker Causeway to take her to Harry's, which was at least exclusive. If they sat in the back near the wall, they'd be safe enough.

  His own mood might get better with fresh air. The restaurant's staff ensured that only certain people came inside. He'd been there many times as a child, so it fulfilled Alice's request.

  The one thing that kept his shoulders from bowing beneath the weight of oppressive heat and the emotional day was the chance to enjoy the sunset with this beautiful woman next to him.

  Alice had been quiet during the ri
de.

  John asked, "Do you think Peter knows who the alternate beneficiary might be?"

  "I don't know," she said.

  "I don't know if I can trust him."

  "If you accepted the position within the corporation, you'd get insight into his day-to-day. You'd see for yourself if he can be trusted."

  "I'm tired of secrets."

  "So you don't care if Peter's theory is correct about more Morgans?"

  "I haven't thought about it."

  A smile grew on her face as he entered the parking lot. The waterfront restaurant had a valet that guarded the lot. An assassin would have to be on a ship or stop the car on the highway. He assessed the entire place.

  The cars in the lot were Maseratis and Aston Martins with a few BMWs and Mercedes Benz. The Miami well-to-do were here. Near the water if they sat by the wall, they'd see through the screen all the people on their yachts as they passed. The ten-foot walk from the lot to the restaurant was the hard part.

  His stomach clenched, but he tried to ignore it. His brother's words that there were more Morgans out there replayed in his mind as he stepped out of the car and the implication that he didn't care about his family rang in his ears.

  Nothing stirred in the air. If they could walk fast the few feet to the door with the pressing humidity, his heart might calm down. As the valet opened her door, Alice stepped out of the car. Sweat had formed on his forehead. She said, "Relax."

  He swallowed and gazed one more time at the valet as he came to the driver's side. Then he stepped out and visions of a crime scene he had once seen at a restaurant flashed in his head. "I'll try, but we probably should have gone home."

  Without a word she walked toward the restaurant door, and he shadowed behind her. As the doors opened, she turned around and waited for him. "I can't live my life worried about who is out to get me. Besides, you are overreacting. It was probably someone after the President."

  He crossed his arms. She needed to take this seriously, even if his boss hadn't updated him. Tonight he'd send an email, but he let the thoughts go. "Alice, I'm not."

  She turned and walked toward the maître de. He stayed right on her heels.