Chapter 4 - The Lawyer's Bombshell
“You’re lying!” Victoria screamed, slamming her manicured hands onto the table. “Jonathan was practically comatose his last five days! He didn’t sign anything!”
“He was entirely lucid, and I have the medical affidavits from three independent doctors to prove it, as well as a video recording of the signing,” Arthur replied coldly.
Raymond stepped forward, his face flushed red. “Listen here, pal. You can’t just cut a wife out of a will! That’s illegal! She’s entitled to half the marital assets!”
“Ah, yes. The marital assets,” Arthur said, flipping to page four of the document. “Normally, you would be correct. However, Jonathan didn't leave his estate to Mr. Bennett directly. He placed it into an irrevocable charitable trust, with Mr. Bennett as the sole executor.”
Arthur adjusted his glasses. “The trust is explicitly designated to fund medical treatments for underprivileged children with congenital heart defects—starting with Mr. Bennett’s sister, Chloe.”
Tears welled in Lucas’s eyes. He hadn't fully believed it was real until this very moment. His sister was going to live.
“Jonathan legally transferred his assets into this trust prior to his passing,” Arthur continued. “Therefore, at the time of his death, Jonathan Mercer's net worth was precisely zero dollars. There are no marital assets left to split.”
Victoria looked like she was going to be sick. Her breathing became shallow and erratic. “He gave away my money? To... to this nobody?!”
“It was his money, Victoria,” Arthur corrected sharply.
“I’ll sue!” she shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at Lucas. “I will tie this estate up in probate court for a decade! I’ll drag his name through the mud!”
“You are welcome to try,” Arthur said, leaning back in his leather chair. “But Jonathan did leave you one thing. A special provision on page seven.”
Victoria stopped screaming. Her greedy instincts instantly kicked back in. “What is it? A hidden account? Real estate?”
Arthur cleared his throat and read directly from the will: “To my beloved wife, Victoria, who cared for me so deeply in my final days, I leave a guaranteed monthly stipend of $5,000.”
Victoria scoffed. “Five thousand? I spend that on shoes in a week!”
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“Let me finish,” Arthur said smoothly. “The stipend is contingent upon one singular requirement. To receive this money, Victoria must give her full legal consent for a complete, independent medical autopsy of my remains, specifically requesting a comprehensive toxicology panel.”
The silence in the room became deafening.
