After My Fiancé Was Late Thrice, I Claimed the Trillion Inheritance Alone

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On my thirtieth birthday, the lawyers and shareholders all gathered in the 32nd-floor meeting room at Harmony Group, waiting for me and my fiancé Abner Delgado to sign, to take control of the Maxwell Group equity and the hundred-billion family trust.

Everyone waited a full hour, and Abner still hadn't shown up.

Frantic, I tracked him down to the animal hospital. I was about to drag him out when my adopted sister grabbed hold of him, her voice cracking as she said,

"Glenn, give me ten more minutes. Baby hasn't taken his medicine yet. Without his daddy here, I can't manage it alone."

I didn't let go, my eyes fixed on Abner.

"Abner, the trust has to be confirmed and sealed by five. Miss it and we wait another year. It's four now, twenty minutes on the road, and we still have the handoff to negotiate—"

"Enough. How is it your eyes only ever see that trust."

With that he threw off my hand, put his arm around Irma Schmidt, and walked into the exam room.

Through the glass, Abner tenderly wiped the tears from the corner of Irma's eyes and drew her into his arms, soothing her.

I let out a cold, scornful laugh. I didn't want to wait another minute. I turned and dialed my old enemy, Stewart Gilbert.

"Stewart, does that promise you made still count?"

"You have ten minutes. Make it to the courthouse, and I'll get the marriage license with you."

1

Three seconds of silence on the line, then a low, quiet laugh.

"Glenda Maxwell, I've waited ten years for you. I've got the bride-price ready. Play me this time and I'll strangle you."

I hung up, and my assistant Augusta Coleman called through.

"Ms. Maxwell, did you find Mr. Delgado?"

"Ms. Maxwell, the shareholders were just discussing it. If Mr. Delgado doesn't sign again this year, they're going to suspend you from the CEO post."

"Ms. Maxwell, you have to coax Mr. Delgado into coming to sign this time. The IPO is right on our doorstep."

Listening to the worry pinching Augusta's voice, I gave a bitter laugh.

All because Abner, my fiancé, had shown up late two years running and failed to sign, the hundred-billion trust couldn't be activated, and I, the CEO, had no controlling stake.

The whole staff had spent a full year preparing for the IPO. If I didn't secure control this year and get the company listed, the shareholders might vote as a bloc to remove me from the executive CEO position.

Abner knew all of it.

I turned to look through the glass. Abner was carefully feeding Baby its medicine, every movement gentle and careful.

He hated furry animals more than anything. My Maine Coon, the one I'd raised for five years, he'd tossed straight out the door just because it had gotten onto the bed with him once, then asked whether I wanted the cat or him.

In the end I sent the cat to a friend's place and slipped away alone now and then to see it.

I glanced at my watch. Four-ten, and Abner was still gently trimming the cat's toenails.

One second, five, ten... one minute, two...

A wave of exhaustion rose in me, and I turned and walked out.

Some people who show up late aren't worth waiting for.

I'd just pulled the car door open when Abner came out holding the cat, Irma beside him.

He looked at the phone in my hand and gave a scoffing laugh.

"See, all done. You couldn't even wait a few minutes."

"Those old men make a fuss over nothing. There's a trust every year. Besides, doesn't it not close until five?"

"It's four-ten now. We'll drop Irma home together, then head to the office together. There's no way we'll be late."

"No need."

I didn't look at him. I bent to get into the car, ready to drive to the courthouse myself.

Irma stepped straight in front of my car, her eyes red.

"Glenn, are you angry with me?"

"But I really was just worried about Gigi. I've been an orphan since I was little. Gigi is the only family I have."

"Glenn, come to my place for a cup of tea. Let it be my apology, all right?"

Abner's face turned ugly in an instant.

"Glenda Maxwell, Irma's already apologized. Do you have to make things hard for her?"

"If we're late, we do it next year. If something happens to Baby he's never coming back, and you'd have the heart to hurt Irma like that?"

With that he wrenched me out of the driver's seat and forced me into his own car.

"Don't throw your rich-girl tantrum here. In a minute we'll be late and you'll blame it on me again. We're taking Irma home right now. I said I'd sign and I will."

I struggled to get back out, but the door slammed shut and locked with a bang, and half my heart went cold.

Another five minutes slipped by.