The crematoriums.
The funeral homes.
The land.
The organization Thad had spent his entire adult life believing would eventually belong to him.
All of it had moved beyond his reach.
Not because I fought him for it.
Because he fought me.
His final attempt to steal my inheritance was the legal act that gave it to me.
Three days later, Thad requested a meeting.
I agreed.
We sat in the same conference room.
He looked exhausted.
No three-piece suit.
No silver cuff links.
Just a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
For the first time since meeting him, he looked ordinary.
“I heard.”
“I’m sure.”
“You’re taking control.”
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re going to destroy everything my family built.”
I studied him.
“Your family?”
He flinched.
Apparently someone had told him about the DNA results.
“Enoch was my father.”
“I didn’t say otherwise.”
“He raised me.”
