My Ex-Husband and His New Wife Tried to Steal My Father’s Legacy

There was one folded piece of paper inside.

I unwrapped it with trembling hands.

Cassie, my dear,

I am no longer there to defend you personally if you are reading this.

I want to start by telling you something crucial: I was never blind. I witnessed everything.

For a moment, my breathing stopped.

All of it?

I read on.

When Simon thought no one was looking, I noticed how he glanced at you.

I witnessed his transformation following his encounter with Misty. I watched as Jesse gradually distanced himself from you.

You’ve always thought that when things became tough, people revealed their genuine selves.

However, I discovered something new.

When they think they’ve already won, some people reveal their true selves.

My gaze shifted more quickly.

My dad was aware.

He was aware of Simon.

He was aware of Misty.

He was aware of Jesse.

I took a seat on the old wooden bench next to the roses, the same bench where my dad and I used to have coffee on Sundays.

I recalled what he had said months before.

“Cassie, sometimes the people who know exactly where to put the knife are the ones closest to you.”

I assumed he was discussing business at the moment.

I had no idea he was discussing family.

The letter went on.

I’m sure you’re asking why, given what Simon did, I let him keep coming to see me.

The solution is straightforward.

I was curious about the reality.

People act cautiously when they believe they are liked.

People expose themselves when they believe they are going to inherit something.

My fingers gripped the page more tightly.

A chill went through me.

It was more than just a will that my father left behind.

He had been getting ready.

I hastily folded the letter when I heard a car pull into the driveway.

Shortly after, attorney Brenda emerged.

She had silver hair, perceptive eyes, and was in her late forties. She had practically twenty years of experience as my father’s lawyer.

She knew something had happened as soon as she saw my face.

“Cassandra,” she murmured. “What did you discover?”

I gave the envelope to her.

She grew serious as soon as she saw the handwriting.

“Where was this?”

“Beneath the roses.”

For a moment, Brenda closed her eyes.

“Obviously.”

I gave her a look.

Naturally, what do you mean?”

She approached the garden bench and took a seat next to me.

“Two months prior to his death, your father asked me an odd question.”

“What query?”

The white roses caught her attention.

“He asked me if I thought talking too much could cause someone to destroy themselves.”

I scowled.

“And what did you say?”

“Yes, I told him.”

She gave me a look.

“Good,” he answered with a smile. I won’t have to destroy anyone after that. They’ll handle it on their own.

A shiver ran down my spine.

“Brenda, what was my dad aware of?”

She inhaled deeply.

“More than you anticipate.”

My phone rang before she could say anything more.

My stomach dropped when I saw the name on the screen.

Simon.

I gazed at it.

Brenda saw.

“Respond to it.”

“Why?”

“Because when people feel in control, they sometimes reveal more.”

I hit “accept.”

“Hi, Simon.”

His voice was heard right away.

“Cassandra, we must speak.”

He spoke in a different tone.

Not the irate tone he had when we were divorcing.

Not the phony, endearing voice he used to express his desires.

This was the sound of someone who believed he had already prevailed.

“What about it?”

“Around tomorrow.”

I said nothing.

He went on.

“I heard Misty dropped by.”

I gave Brenda a look.

How were you made aware of that?”

A pause.

Too much time.

“Don’t make this hard, Cassandra.”

I nearly burst out laughing.

Challenging?

fifteen years into the marriage?

When I discovered that my spouse had an affair with his assistant?

After he told everyone I was “too emotional” and abandoned me for her?

I was making things hard now?

“This is my father’s house, Simon.”

“You refer to the estate of your father.”

Misty used the exact same phrases.

I tightened my hold.

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“Not at all. Proceed.

He let out a sigh.

“Observe, Cassandra. You need to be realistic, even if I know you’re furious. Your dad was elderly. Near the end, he was having trouble thinking coherently.

I froze.

the same reasoning.

The same words.

The mental state of my father.

I understood all of a sudden.

They weren’t speculating.

They were constructing a narrative.

A tale about my father’s lack of decision-making skills.

A tale in which his last desires might be contested.

“Who told you that my dad wasn’t thinking straight?”

Quiet.

“Jesse brought it up.”

Naturally.

My sibling.

The same brother who, at my father’s funeral, hardly met my gaze.

The same brother who all of a sudden began hanging out with Simon on the weekends.

“Simon.”

“What?”

“Once, my father trusted you.”

“I held him in high regard.”

“No,” I muttered. “You valued what you believed he could provide for you.”

His tone became harsher.

“Cassandra, you’ve never been able to accept reality.”

I grinned.

Not because it was humorous.

Because all of a sudden it was all clear.

They believed that I was the weak one.

They assumed that since I remained silent throughout my divorce, I would remain silent indefinitely.

They were mistaken.

“Simon?”

“What?”

“I hope tomorrow is enjoyable for you.”

A pause.

What does that signify?”

“It means that when Brenda reads the will, you should listen very carefully.”

His breathing shifted.

Just a little bit.

But enough.

“You are aware of something.”

It wasn’t a query.

It was terror.

I hung up the phone.

Brenda gave me a glance.

“He has suspicions.”

“Excellent.”

She gave a small smile.

“Your dad would be pleased.”

I glanced down at the letter once more.

“Isn’t there more?”

Brenda gave a nod.

“Yes.”

How much more?”

She took out a little folder from her briefcase.

“Your dad left you instructions.”

My heart began to pound.

“Guidelines?”

“Yes.”

She set the folder down on the table.

“He made it clear that you shouldn’t open this folder until someone from Simon’s side has attempted to eject you from the house prior to the will reading.”

I gazed at her.

“He was aware.”

“Yes.”

“He anticipated their arrival.”

“Yes.”

My dad had foreseen Misty’s arrival.

anticipated Simon’s call.

Everything was predicted.

I clicked on the folder.

There was a picture inside.

My blood became icy.

It was a photo of Simon.

Misty as well.

However, not lately.

This photo was shot many years ago.

prior to my divorce.

Before I had any idea.

Together, they stood in front of a hotel.

clasping hands.

My father had written the following on the back of the picture:

“There are always traces of the truth.”

There was another paper underneath.

a bank account.

along with a name.

Walker, Simon.

I gazed at the figures.

I then turned to face Brenda.

“What’s this?”

Her face darkened.

“A discovery made by your father six months prior to his diagnosis.”

“What?”

She leaned in.

“Your father thought Simon wasn’t simply unfaithful to you.”

I took a swallow.

What was he doing, then?”

Brenda met my gaze directly.

“He thought Simon was attempting to steal something from him.”

Suddenly it felt colder in the garden.

I examined the roses.

Misty intended to ruin the roses.

My father guarded the roses.

And I understood for the first time.

The roses were more than just flowers.

They served as a caution.

Because they were unaware of what my father knew.

Who inherited the house was not going to be the topic of tomorrow’s will reading.

It was going to reveal who had been lying for years.

Jesse, Misty, and Simon were unaware of this.

Their demise was already planned by my father.

I sat in my father’s study all night.

The scent of him was still in the room.

vintage leather books. freshly brewed coffee. He constructed the cedar wood shelves himself. He had quit smoking years ago, but he never had the courage to discard the pipe’s subtle aroma.

There was a memory in every item in that room.

However, those memories felt different that evening.

They were no longer merely recollections.

They served as proof.

My dad had sensed a problem.

Additionally, he had been discreetly getting ready for the day when those around him revealed their actual selves.

I reopened the folder that Brenda had given me.

the bank documents.

The picture.

The notes.

The picture got uglier the more pieces I found, and each piece felt like a puzzle.

A transfer record was the first document.

One of my father’s investment accounts had seen a significant transfer of funds.

The one who received it?

a business I was unfamiliar with.

However, the signature approving the transfer…

was Simon’s.

I spent a long time looking at the paper.

“No.”

Even though no one was around, I murmured it.

Because a part of me still found it hard to believe Simon would go that far, despite everything he had done.

Fifteen years.

15 years of marriage.

I thought I knew someone for fifteen years.

I recalled the early years.

Simon wasn’t always harsh.

The most difficult aspect was that.

He and similar individuals were never monsters in the first place.

They were endearing.

They offered assistance.

They were perfectly aware of which version of themselves to present to you.

Simon used to get up early on the weekends and prepare breakfast when we were first married.

He would leave small notes all over the house.

“My love, have a lovely day.”

“I’m fortunate to have you.”

“We’ll create something together someday.”

And I took him at his word.

I wanted to believe him.

However, at some point, the man who had previously held my hand began estimating the benefits my hand may provide.

I didn’t see it till my father did.

The following morning came sooner than I had anticipated.

the day the will was read.

Cars started to arrive at the house at precisely nine o’clock.

I watched from the front window.

Simon was the first to arrive.

Naturally.

He appeared to be attending a business meeting rather than the reading of a deceased man’s last wishes when he emerged in an expensive suit.

Misty trailed behind.

Her attire was totally unsuitable.

fashionable clothing.

large sunglasses.

a grin that conveyed her ownership of the space.

Jesse then arrived.

My younger brother.

The person who caused me nearly as much pain as Simon.

He didn’t look at me through the glass as he made his way toward the home.

That was more painful than I had anticipated.

Because regardless of what Simon did…

My family was Jesse.

Or I believed he was.

Brenda was the last to arrive.

She entered through the front entrance with a briefcase made of black leather.

They all met in my father’s study.

For forty years, my father made business choices in the same room.

He taught Jesse and me how to distinguish between right and bad in the same room.

My father’s chair was occupied by Simon.

I observed.

Brenda did the same.

However, she remained silent.

Not quite yet.

Misty looked around with her legs crossed.

“This house needs some updates, I have to admit,” she remarked.

I didn’t respond.

She went on.

The kitchen is outdated. The garden is out of date. In particular, those roses

My gaze shifted to her.

“You detest those roses so much.”

She grinned.

“Cassandra, they’re just plants.”

“No.”

I gave her a look.

“They’re not.”

She appeared uneasy for a brief moment.

She then chuckled, though.

“You were sentimental all the time.”

Brenda opened her briefcase before I could reply.

“Let’s get started.”

There was silence in the room.

She set a number of papers down on the table.

“I need to make a clarification before reading Harrison Mitchell’s last will and testament.”

Simon bent over.

“What?”

Brenda gave him a direct look.

“Mr. Before and after his death, Mitchell expected some people to doubt his mental competence.

The space went cold.

I saw Simon’s expression shift.

Just for a moment.

However, I witnessed it.

Fear.

Brenda went on.

As a result, Mr. Mitchell made arrangements for several medical examinations in his last year of life.

She set down another document.

“Every physician attested to Mr. Mitchell’s mental competence and complete awareness of his choices.”

Misty’s self-assured look vanished.

“That isn’t feasible.”

Brenda turned to face her.

“Mrs. Walker, why is it not possible?”

Misty parted her lips.

then came to a halt.

She had erred.

A large one.

because her husband’s last name had not yet been mentioned.

There was silence in the room.

I gave her a look.

It was too late when she realized.

Brenda observed as well.

It’s interesting.

incredibly fascinating.

Then Brenda went on.

“Mr. Additionally, Mitchell asked that extra attention be given to anyone who tried to coerce Cassandra into leaving this property prior to the will reading.

Simon scowled.

What does that signify?”

Another envelope was opened by Brenda.

“It indicates that what you did prior to today was significant.”

My heart began to beat more quickly.

Simon’s expression stiffened.

“What actions?”

Brenda gave me a glance.

Did anyone get in touch with you or try to get you leave this house before today, Cassandra?”

I gave Misty a peek.

Simon came next.

Jesse came next.

There was silence in the room.

I recalled Misty standing in the middle of my roses.

“Go ahead and start packing.”

Simon’s call came back to me.

“You must be practical.”

I inhaled.

“Yes.”

Brenda gave a nod.

“Please give an explanation.”

I revealed everything.

Every single syllable.

each and every danger.

Each insult.

I was not overly dramatic.

I didn’t have to.

The veracity was sufficient.

Brenda glanced at Simon once I was done.

“Is this right?”

Simon shook his head right away.

She is sentimental. She is distorting the facts.

With composure, Brenda took out her phone.

“Interesting.”

She gave the screen a tap.

“Because we have security footage.”

Simon came to a halt.

“What?”

My eyes got bigger.

Brenda gave me a glance.

“After an incident last year, your father installed cameras throughout the property.”

I recalled.

My dad expressed his desire for increased protection.

I assumed he was only exercising caution.

Apparently not.

Brenda flipped the phone over.

The video started to play.

Misty was present.

strolling around the garden.

in front of me.

uttering each and every word.

“This house will be ours as soon as they read the will tomorrow, so start packing already.”

No one said anything.

It hurt to be silent.

Misty’s face went white.

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

Brenda arched an eyebrow.

“It demonstrates that you tried to threaten the legitimate occupant of this property before the court case was finished.”

Simon got to his feet.

“This is absurd.”

“No,” Brenda gently said.

“Mr. Mitchell predicted exactly this.”

Once more, she reached into the briefcase.

and took out one last envelope.

My father’s handwriting was used to seal this one.

The name was visible to all.

For Cassandra.

I received it from Brenda.

“I was told by your father to give this to you only after they came clean.”

My hands shuddered.

I cracked it open.

There was a little letter inside.

Just five phrases.

But everything was altered by those five words.

Cassie, my dear,

They have already revealed themselves to you if you are reading this.

Don’t feel deceived. Feel appreciative.

It hurts to lose a mask, but it hurts far more to live a lie.

You’re prepared to hear the truth now.

I raised my head.

Everyone was observing me.

Simon.

misty.

Jesse.

And for the first time since my dad passed away…

I wasn’t scared.

Because I finally got it.

They came here with the intention of taking me home.

They believed my dad had passed away.

They believed me to be by myself.

However, they overlooked one point.

This house was built by my father throughout his whole life.

Furthermore, he did more than merely construct barriers.

He constructed defense.

Brenda pulled out another document.

“Now,” she murmured,

“The official reading of Harrison Mitchell’s last will and testament will continue.”

She surveyed the space.

“And I ought to caution everyone.”

She hesitated.

“Mr. Mitchell left behind more than just the inheritance.”

Simon’s face shifted.

“What more?”

Brenda gave him a look.

“Consequences.”

She then started reading.

Section 4
Slowly, Brenda opened the will.

Not because she wasn’t sure.

However, she had an understanding that the other people in the room did not.

This was more than a legal document.

This was my father’s last exchange with those who had deceived him.

I could hear the old grandfather clock in the corner ticking away as the room grew quite quiet.

Every Christmas, my father fixed the same clock.

With his fingers tapping furiously on the armrest, Simon sat forward.

I could see the anxiety beneath Misty’s irritated expression.

Jesse kept his eyes off of me.

Brenda repositioned her spectacles.

Harrison Edward Mitchell’s Last Will and Testament

She started to read.

“I, Harrison Edward Mitchell, hereby declare this to be my final will and testament, being of sound mind and fully aware of my decisions.”

Simon gave a small smile.

It was as if he was anticipating his prize.

Then Brenda went on.

“First, I give my daughter Cassandra Mitchell my personal possessions, which include my books, watches, artwork, and private collections.”

My throat constricted.

basic things.

Things that were important.

items that were his.

Brenda went on.

“Second, I give my daughter Cassandra ownership of my home, including the land, garden, and all buildings on the property.”

There was silence in the room.

Misty’s eyes grew wide.

“What?”

Before she could stop herself, she said it.

Brenda raised her gaze.

“I apologize, Mrs. Walker. Did you have a query?”

Misty swiftly straightened her face.

“No. I simply thought there would be a different arrangement.

“You made the wrong assumption.”

Misty felt uneasy when Brenda said it.

Simon bent over.

“I must have something.”

Brenda glanced over the documents.

“There is.”

Simon’s features broke into a tiny smile.

Lastly.

He considered.

Something was going to be given to him.

Brenda went on.

“Mr. Mitchell recognized your longstanding friendship and business partnership.

Simon unwinded.

“Exactly.”

Brenda gave him a look.

But he also said that dishonesty should never be rewarded by charity.

The grin vanished.

What does that signify?”

“It means you’ll get exactly what Mr. Mitchell determined you deserve.”

Brenda flipped the page.

“I depart to Simon Walker.”

She hesitated.

“one dollar.”

No one moved.

No one said anything.

Misty then chuckled.

A brief, uneasy giggle.

“One dollar?”

Simon’s face flushed.

“This is a joke.”

“No,” Brenda answered.

“It is a legitimate inheritance.”

Simon got to his feet.

“After everything I did for Harrison, you’re saying he left me one dollar?”

Brenda gave him a composed glance.

“Mr. Mitchell thought one dollar was a symbolic reminder, according to his written statement.”

“A reminder of what?”

She grabbed another piece of paper.

And peruse:

“You spent a lot of years evaluating relationships based on what they could offer you, Simon. Think of this dollar as a representation of how much you valued loyalty.

The space became chilly.

I gave Simon a peek.

I saw something I had never seen before for the first time in years.

Not rage.

Not conceit.

embarrassment.