Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“Fine. Drive up. Come around the back. Take the steps down to the back door.” No way was I hoofing it up to the front door. The house was three stories and built on a hill, so the foyer, formal dining room, and living room were up a flight of stairs at the front of the house. Given how freaking huge this place was, it would take me a few minutes to get there.
“Thank you, Miss Arnold.”
CHAPTER THREE
“I’m sorry. How much did you say?”
“It’s all right here in the inventory list.” The man named Lorenzo Fuentes slid a two-inch stack of papers across the kitchen table. “Titles have been drawn up to place ownership of Mr. Minos’s holding companies and assets into your name. All I need is a signature. Oh, and I am instructed to assist you with disposing of anything you do not wish to keep. No extra cost.” He pulled out a pen and reached across the table, setting it beside the stack.
I stared at the heap of papers, my mind attempting to wrap itself around the significance of what sat before me. These documents represented everything King had owned. Thousands of years of collecting, stealing, bartering, and whatever the hell else he’d done to obtain his wealth. He’d told me that he wanted me to have it all once he finally figured out a way to die and be reunited with Mia, but how would he feel now? Both he and the Seers believed I had been this Hagne person in my past life.
I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. “I’m going to make tea. Want some?”
“No. Thank you,” he said.
I got up, filled the kettle, and put it to heat on the stove—a huge, ten-burner, professional chef affair. Draco was down for a nap in the nursery I’d set up in the den on this floor. I preferred this level of the house because it had the kitchen, laundry room, and family room, too. I could work at the counter when the baby slept. I also had a nursery set up downstairs next to the master, but I hardly used it. I preferred to have Draco near me at night, so I’d moved his crib next to my bed.
“Miss Arnold, I don’t want to be rude, but I really have to be going. I’ve got a meeting and—”
“But you can’t leave until I sign. Correct?” I asked.
He stared and then nodded slowly.
“And you don’t even know why, do you?”
“No.” He shook his head.
I leaned against the counter. “Well, Lorenzo, it’s because the ancient, ruthless SOB who paid you to bring those papers also put a fucking spell in your head that’s compelling your ass to sit here until you get the job done. You could literally be starving, and you still wouldn’t be able to get up and go home. And that is why I’m not in a hurry to sign those papers. There’s a price for taking ownership of King’s belongings.”
“So-so you’re not signing?” He swallowed hard, likely thinking he was going to live at my table until his last breath. “But I have children. A wife. I have a practice I built with my own sweat and blood. I…”
I pumped my hands in the air. “Calm down. I’m just saying I need to think this through first.” King wasn’t some sweet old grandma who’d left me her stash of gold coins. In many ways, he was more like the devil. Still, I’d loved him. I probably always would.
“Who’s he?” Ansin stood in the doorway, wearing faded jeans, a snug black T-shirt, and a beat-up leather jacket. His black hair was loose and looking unkempt again.
“Ansin…” I growled. “What did I say about barging in?”
“And what did I say about this being my house?” He jerked his head at Lorenzo. “Who’s the suit?”
“None of your busine—”
“I represent Mr. Minos,” Lorenzo said.
“King’s lawyer?” Ansin smirked, clearly amused.
“He’s here to deal with King’s estate,” I explained.
Ansin sauntered over in that special kind of way only he could pull off. Menacing, yet completely relaxed in his own skin.
Ansin pulled the stack of papers toward him and thumbed through the pages. “Interesting.” He got to the last page and then pushed the stack away like it was offensive trash.
“What?” I said.
He flicked his fingers at the papers dismissively. “It was a waste of his life. Houses, jets, cash, and hotels. Pfft. For what? The only thing of value the man had is in that warehouse—what’s left of his arsenal. But the rest?” Ansin shook his head. “I expected more from the great King.”
Like I said before, Ansin believed that when one had power, owning material things was pointless. With power, you simply took what you wanted, used it, and moved on. He saw the world as one giant lending library. The only things he actively pursued were objects that gave him more power. I could see his point, however…