Chapter 3: The Beneficiary Who Wasn't There
Clara stepped back, her bravado rapidly eroding. "What is that? A prank? You’re trying to scare me."
"I don't play pranks with the future, Clara," Eleanor said. She smoothed the paper against the mantle. "When your father died, he knew you. He saw your greed even then. He saw you looking at the jewelry, the cars, the accounts. He knew that if he left this house to you, you’d tear it down, piece by piece, just to sell the scraps."
Clara stared at the document, her eyes darting across the ink. It was a conditional deed of trust.
"The house," Eleanor continued, a faint, terrifying smile touching her lips, "was never owned by me. And it was certainly never owned by your father. It was held in a private trust for a beneficiary of his choosing—provided that the children of this family proved themselves worthy of the name."
"That’s nonsense!" Clara screamed, lunging forward. "I am a Blackwood! I am the only child!"
"And that," Eleanor said, holding the paper just out of reach, "is exactly why you lose. You didn't just break the portrait today, Clara. You breached the 'Moral Conduct' clause of the trust. By attempting to forcibly remove the primary trustee—me—and by destroying family property, you have triggered the forfeiture clause."
May you like
Clara’s face went white. The room felt as though it were shrinking. "Forfeiture? To whom? There is no one else!"
"Oh, but there is," Eleanor said.
