Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“There is nothing else unless he was physically abusing you, which clearly is not the case, or neglect, but you already admitted you were fed and housed. Unless he was somehow incapacitated or you got married…”
“Wait, if I got married, then I would get my money and property back?” Immediately, the plots of a thousand Lifetime movies scrolled through my head.
I had no interest in a husband or falling in love, but maybe I could pay a man to marry me, and then pay him to leave me alone, then divorce me when I was of age.
Maybe some handsome artist who needed time free from a job to create his art? Or maybe a Parisian baker with a sexy accent who wanted to intern in the amazing New York bakeries and just needed a green card.
“Yes, but to get married, you will need your trustee’s written permission.”
Well, there went those dreams.
It was probably for the best. No self-respecting Frenchman would come to the United States to learn how to bake. It just wouldn’t happen.
“Ok, you mentioned incapacitated. What does that mean exactly?”
“If he is in some way physically unable to do his duty as a trustee. If he were in some kind of accident or a medical issue arose, left him incapacitated. Though I should tell you. Manwarring did a full physical to prove that he was more than capable. The man is in perfect health. That avenue isn’t going to give you the options that you’re hoping.”
Incapacitated. Something about that struck a nerve.
The lawyers didn’t say he had to be sick or in an accident. He just had to be unable to perform his duties as a trustee.
Of course, the most common way that would happen would be if there was an illness or injury, but I didn’t think those were the only ways. I remembered reading something in the contract about being incapacitated, but I couldn’t remember what it was. It was just on the tip of my tongue.
“What other ways could he be incapacitated?” I asked.
“Look, there’s not a loophole here for you, and I don’t have time for this. Nothing short of prison is going to get you free of him.”
Prison, that was it.
My father did not speak about business in front of me or my mother often, but I had heard him say things.
He hated Lucian Manwarring, and my father did not hate without cause. He had said once in passing to someone at a party that it was a miracle that Lucian wasn’t in prison.
He had a reputation for making questionable deals and bending the law.
Amelia had mentioned once that Harrison wasn’t a fan of her father-in-law or really most of their class. He also had a reputation for wanting more and wanting to prove he wasn’t just another rich man playing at ruling the world.
Maybe he would see taking Lucian Manwarring down as a way to do that.
“So, just to be clear,” I said, standing and tucking my Kelly bag under my arm. “You are saying if he is in prison, then I get my life back.”
The lawyer eyed me warily. “Yes, but I don’t like where your train of thought is going.”
“Where my mind is, is no longer any of your concern. I will schedule an appointment with your secretary if I need anything further. Have a nice day.”
I practically ran from his office.
Lucian would be home soon, which meant I only had a few hours to find something and get it to the DA.
CHAPTER 21
LUCIAN
“Mr. Manwarring. Your late morning appointment is already in your office,” my secretary said as I stepped off the elevator after an off-site inspection of several of my dock warehouses during the first half of the morning.
“Why did you let him into my office?”
“I didn’t. I couldn’t stop him.”
I shook my head. Her primary responsibility was to keep people the fuck out of my office. That included my son, and it damn well included Ronin O’Murphy.
How hard could it be for a woman alone to stand up to one of the biggest Irish mob bosses in the city?
The only reason I wasn’t firing her on the spot was because Ronan was not at my desk snooping through shit. He was sitting at the side table setting up the chess board, which was how we preferred to do business.
If a man was cunning enough to talk strategy while playing chess, it could tell you more about the person on the opposite end of the table than doing just one or the other. I knew that if a man’s strategy changed in the game while we were speaking, then his strategy had changed in the conversation as well.
If a man who was usually indecisive with moves had a sudden rush of confidence, that meant he was hiding something.
If a man who was usually decisive paused too often and took too much time making simple moves, then he didn’t have all the information. There was some other influence at play.