Page 8 of The Temporary Bride

“What do you think he put in there?” Reid asks, nodding toward the folders in front of the lawyers.

“I’d assume that he put Tristan down as CEO,” Beckett chimes in from my other side.

“Naturally,” Reid agrees quietly. “But⁠—”

“I don’t know,” I cut in, keeping my voice down like the other two. “I don’t know if he left us any controlling interest.”

“What makes you say that?” Reid sounds taken aback, like the thought had never occurred to him.

“I’m not sure he trusted any of us enough to take over for him.” My father was a closed-off, detached man, focused solely on his own work. Nothing was ever right by his standards. I wouldn’t be surprised if none of us became CEO.

“It should be you,” Reid says decisively. Gabriel, listening in, nods, as does Beckett. I look over at Dominic, but he doesn’t seem to have heard us.

“It’s always been you,” Beckett says. “From day one.”

I shake my head and run a hand through my hair restlessly, unable to share their confidence.

The door opens again, sparing me from having to respond. I thought we were the only ones who were going to be present for the will reading. I frown as I turn in my seat.

To my instant confusion and dismay, Chloe Dawson walks into the room, her head held high. She takes the seat at the table opposite me, her cold, gray stare meeting mine for an instant.

“What’s she doing here?” I demand. The lawyers ignore me, talking together in quiet voices.

Chloe’s parents, Vincent and Annabelle Dawson, file into the room after their daughter and take seats to either side of her.

Vincent Dawson, the CEO of MediaSphere, looks far more like his daughter than her mother does. He has the same dark brown hair, the same sharp jawline. Vincent’s hair is thinning at the temples, and his eyes are a dark brown rather than the cool gray of Chloe’s, but other than that, it’s easy to tell that she’s his daughter.

Her mother looks less like her, but I can still see traces of Annabelle in Chloe’s features and in the touches of auburn in her hair.

“What are they doing here?” I repeat, agitated.

It’s my mother who answers me. She doesn’t look up as she rummages in her purse. “They’re supposed to be here, Tristan.”

“But I thought⁠—”

Before I can finish my sentence, one of the lawyers clears his throat. I fall silent, confused and fuming. Why the hell would the Dawsons be here for this? Are they somehow named in the will? It makes no sense.

One of the lawyers folds his hands on the table. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

Everyone assembled nods, sitting up straighter. I force myself to tear my gaze away from Chloe.

“We’re gathered for the reading of the last will and testament of the late Julian Thorne,” says the lawyer. “To begin with, it was the deceased’s wishes that his estate go to his widow, Mrs. Camille Thorne.”

Dominic lays a hand on my mother’s shoulder as she dabs her eyes gently with a handkerchief. We all saw this coming. The deed to my parents’ city apartment, as well as their estate outside of the confines of downtown, belonged to my father. It only makes sense that it should be transferred to my mother now, so that she can continue living there.

“His collection of automobiles will be divided amongst his sons,” the lawyer continues. “His vacation properties in Anguilla and Grand Cayman are bequeathed to Gabriel and Dominic, respectively.”

I see Dominic blink in surprise at that. Of all of us, he had the hardest time getting along with our father when he was alive. I’m sure he didn’t expect to receive much in the will, let alone a vacation home.

“In the matter of Mr. Thorne’s shares in his company, Thorne Enterprises, they will be divided evenly among his five sons, with Tristan stepping into the role of CEO.”

I let out a breath as Reid reaches out to pat me on the shoulder. Finally, the question that has burned in the back of my head for years is answered. My father trusted me with his company. He thought I was fit to follow in his footsteps. All of my fears—all of my doubts—were wrong.

I’ll get the chance to lead Thorne Enterprises.

Despite the hollow feeling in my chest and my uncertainty over the Dawsons’ presence, relief creeps through me. Whatever else happens in here, I can handle it.

But before I can settle into the warm feeling, and before my brothers can finish their murmured congratulations, the lawyer keeps talking. We all fall silent.