Chapter 3 : The final will of a dying man

Ronan's POV (Six months earlier)

I sat on the chair in the expensive funeral parlor that smelled of expensive flowers trying to stench away this smell of death. But I am here pretending to moan the man who never showed an ounce of affection towards me.

My father's casket was surrounded by expensive lilies, but all I can think of was how my father looked me in the eyes when he was about to die 3 days ago. He didn't look at me with a human warmth, not with pride or even love. He looked at me with disappointment that I wasn't more like him.

“You are fidgeting my son,” says my mother who held my trembling hand, “people are watching us.”

Of course people are watching us to see any weakness in us, half the businessmen in the entire country are here, knowing that the death of Harrison was just an opportunity that would benefit their companies. While the other half businessmen stood and watched like vultures waiting to see if the Blackthorn industries would collapse without him.

“I am fine, mom.” The lie tested bitter in my mouth and then I adjusted my tie and straightened my back to look like the grieving son that everyone expects of me.

The service dragged on for an hour, politicians and businessmen taking turns in giving speeches about how Harrison, my Father impacted the business world.

When the service was over my mom and I received condolences from people and then went out to the waiting car outside. The ride to the lawyer's office was silent. I didn't speak neither did my mom because we know what's next, the will reading. This is where I inherit everything and officially become the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 company in the world.

We got to the office and met my father's lawyer sitting and waiting for us to join him. Gregory Whitfield is our family lawyer. He has been handling my family's business affairs ever since I was born.

“You are welcome, Mr Ronan and Mrs Victoria.” says Whitfield, as he adjusted his eyeglass nervously. “Before we begin I want you to know that your father made some significant adjustments to the will two weeks before his death.” He began, looking at me sideways. “Some of these changes may likely come as a shock.”

My mom adjusted her posture where she was sitting, “What kind of changes Whitfield?” She asked uncomfortably.

The lawyer looked at my mom from his eyeglass and then said, “Perhaps it is best if I read from the relevant sections of the will.” He opened a thick legal document and cleared his throat. “To my son, Ronan Blackthorn, I leave controlling interest in Blackthorn industries, specifically sixty five percent of all company shares and assets.”

And let out a deep breath I never realized I was holding well 65% is still enough to run the company as I want even though it was less than what I expected.

“However,” Whitfield continued, and that one word made me uncomfortable in my chair. “There is another beneficiary that must be acknowledged.”

Mom shifted uncomfortably in her chair, “Another beneficiary, who is that?” Her voice was sharp. “My husband never mentioned any beneficiary before his death.”

Whitfield looks like he would rather be anywhere in the world but not here. “To my daughter Annabelle, whose mother's name is Elena Reyes. I leave 35% of all Blackthorn industries shares and assets, along with a formal acknowledgement of paternity and an apology letter for being a failure as a father.”

The silence that followed was so quiet that I could hear my heartbeat. My mother's face was astonished by what Whitfield just read. Her arms gripping the armrest of her chair so tight that I could see the bones of her knuckles.

“How come? but that's impossible.” she whispered almost to herself “Harrison doesn't have a daughter, if he had, I would have known about it.”

“According to the documents provided, Elena Reyes was appointed as his personal assistant from 2001 to 2005. Their relationship grew from professional to intimacy which led to her giving birth to a daughter on March 25th 2002.” Whitfield drops the paper in his hand and then shovels through other papers. “And if I am right the girl should be 22 years old now.”

Marcus, who was right in the room with us, said, “And where can we find this girl now?”

Whitfield sighed and dropped his eyeglasses. “That is part of the problem now, your father lost track of Elena Reyes and the child eighteen years ago. He hired private investigators over the years to locate them but it was not successful.”

My mom stood up abruptly, the chair she was sitting fell backwards. “This is all ridiculous. How can a woman named Elena Reyes and her daughter claim a share in the inheritance. How do we even know that this daughter exists?”

Whitfield relax back in his chair. “your husband was very thorough in his documentation. He kept records of the relationship, and that include photographs, financial record and DNA results he obtained when she was a child.” he then pulls out another file folder. “Everything you need to verify the paternity is here, Mrs Victoria.”

Finally I spoke, “35%? That's enough to block any major decision I'm going to make in the company.”

“Yes it is,” Whitfield nods, “And your father specifically structured it that way. He wrote in a letter that he wants to force you to work hard along with your half sister. To build something better than what he has built.”

“A half sister? listen to yourself.” Mom yells. “My husband had a bastard child with a whore he called his personal assistance and then they get to steal a third of what we have worked hard for?”

“Mother, please calm your voice.” I pleaded with her, I knew she was angry but that's the last thing we need as there are witnesses here.

“Don’t dare to tell me to calm down.” She turned around and faced me. “Do you know what this means? Somebody, I mean a whore who never works a single day, is about to be among the richest people in the country. This will destroy everything that your father has built.”

Marcus then leaned towards Whitfield, “what if you can't find this Annabelle?”

“The shares go into a trust that will continue finding her indefinitely.” Whitfield continued, “No major business deal can be conducted without her consent or a legal declaration of death.”

“So we will find her.” I said, although the worst felt like a broken glass in my throat. “We will find her and make a deal. Buy out her share at a fair price and send her away.”

Mother's laughter was sharp and bitter. “Ronan, my son, you think it is easy? You think it will be easy to convince them to sell their shares knowing that they will be billionaires if they find out?” She finally sat down. “The moment this girl realizes what she will be inheriting, she won't back down. She will want everything for herself, the power, the money and social status. So why would she agree to sell her shares to you?”

“Because 35% won't be enough for controlling power.” I pointed out. “She needs me more than I need her.”