Chapter 3 - The Paper Dynasty Begins to Crack
Six months passed quickly over Ashbourne Manor, yet the expected joy failed to settle into the cold stone corridors.
Claire had quickly redecorated the entire estate, replacing Evelyn’s tasteful antiques with gilded, vulgar decor.
The renovation costs had spiraled far out of control, draining the manor’s liquid bank accounts at an alarming rate.
William sat behind his heavy desk in the master study, staring at three separate red-stamped overdraft notices.
His financial manager, Arthur Davies, stood nervously before him, sweating through his stiff collar.
“What do you mean the agricultural subsidies have been pulled?” William shouted, slamming his fist on the desk.
“Those subsidies have funded the estate’s maintenance operations for nearly seven consecutive decades!”
Arthur wiped his brow with a trembling handkerchief, avoiding his employer’s furious glare.
“Your Grace, those subsidies were tied to the environmental legal framework created by the former Duchess,” Arthur stammered.
“When Lady Evelyn departed, her personal law firm withdrew from representing our municipal agricultural board.”
“Without her legal certifications, the state department revoked our preferred tax-exempt agricultural status.”
William rubbed his temples violently, feeling a throbbing headache blooming behind his eyes.
“Then find another lawyer to recertify the documents!” William ordered, his voice echoing off the walls.
“We have tried, Your Grace,” Arthur replied miserably.
“Every major firm in the state has suddenly declared a conflict of interest regarding Ashbourne Holdings.”
Before William could interrogate Arthur further, the heavy mahogany study doors were thrown wide open.
Claire marched in, wearing an expensive silk morning gown, waving a thick stack of construction invoices.
“William, the contractors for the nursery have halted work again!” she complained loudly, ignoring Arthur’s presence.
“They are claiming the structural permits for the south wing expansion have been mysteriously denied!”
“How can they deny a permit to the Carter family? My son needs that nursery completed before his birth!”
Arthur exchanged a nervous glance with William, whose patience was wearing dangerously thin.
“Claire, please, I am handling massive financial discrepancies right now,” William pleaded, trying to keep his composure.
“Financial discrepancies?” Claire scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her swelling abdomen.
“You are the Duke of Ashbourne! You own millions in timber, port logistics, and commercial real estate!”
Arthur cleared his throat timidly, stepping forward to deliver the most devastating news of all.
“Actually, Lady Claire, that is no longer entirely accurate,” Arthur mumbled, looking down at his ledger.
“The Ashbourne commercial port leases were technically held under a subsidiary trust named St. Sophia Enterprises.”
“We believed it was merely a family asset named after your firstborn daughter, Your Grace.”
“However, upon a thorough audit last week, we discovered that St. Sophia Enterprises is wholly owned by Lady Evelyn.”
William shot up from his leather chair, the blood completely draining from his face.
“What did you just say?” William whispered, his voice trembling with sudden, uncontrollable rage.
“The port generates sixty-five percent of our annual family revenue! Evelyn has no right to touch it!”
“She created the holding company with her private Chicago funds eight years ago,” Arthur explained quietly.
“You signed the delegation of management agreements yourself back when the shipping union went on strike.”
“You didn't want the liability, so you transferred the full ownership structure directly into her name.”
Claire let out a sharp gasp, stumbling backward onto the plush velvet armchair.
“You gave her the ports?” Claire screamed at William, her voice losing every trace of its polished elegance.
“You told me you were one of the wealthiest men on the entire eastern seaboard!”
“I am one of the wealthiest men!” William roared back, his face turning an ugly shade of crimson.
“This is an administrative clerical error! I will sue her into oblivion and reclaim every single dime!”
“You cannot sue her easily, Your Grace,” Arthur intervened, holding up a certified registered mail envelope.
“This just arrived from the Supreme Court of New York twenty minutes ago.”
“Lady Evelyn has officially filed for the division of marital property and the audit of all Carter family trusts.”
“And she has retained the most ruthless corporate litigation firm on the entire continent to represent her.”
William tore the envelope open, his hands shaking so violently that the thick parchment rattled.
At the bottom of the formal summons was a signature written in sharp, unmistakable black ink: Evelyn Carter, Esq.
May you like
Underneath her signature was a single handwritten addendum that chilled William to the marrow of his bones:
“The daughters you abandoned send their regards; the bill for their inheritance has finally come due.”
