Chapter 5:The will of a Dead man

The oak-paneled courtroom buzzed with hushed whispers, tension settling like a heavy fog. Everyone was waiting. Waiting for a dead man's voice to speak again.

Ella sat at the front, her fingers trembling despite being clenched tightly in her lap. Her eyes flickered over to Adrian, who sat with his small hands gripping the sides of his chair. He was too young to understand everything, but old enough to feel the gravity of it all. Twelve years old. Just like her when it all started.

Beside her, Paul adjusted his tie, his expression unreadable. Valeria Monroe stood across the aisle, her chin high, eyes cold, flanked by two stern-looking attorneys. If grief had touched her, it had not lingered long.

The lawyer cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention.

"We are gathered here for the reading of the last will and testament of Mr. Gideon Monroe."

A beat of silence.

"Please understand that this document was amended three months prior to his passing. Witnessed and notarized."

Valeria's brows furrowed slightly. Ella felt her breath catch.

The lawyer unfolded the document, his voice even and practiced.

"To my beloved daughter, Ella Monroe..."

Ella leaned forward, heart thudding.

"...I leave my love, my regrets, and the Monroe Foundation scholarship trust, to be managed under the board's supervision."

A ripple of shock traveled through the room. That was it? No mention of company shares, no estate? Her stomach dropped.

Valeria smirked.

The lawyer continued.

"To Adrian Gideon Monroe..."

Gasps. Even Valeria jolted slightly. The room erupted into murmurs.

"...my son by Doreen Castille, I leave fifty-one percent ownership of Monroe International, all intellectual property rights, and the Monroe estate on Ravenhill Lane. Until he reaches the age of twenty-five, the assets are to be managed by a court-appointed trustee."

Ella's ears rang.

Paul reached for her hand, squeezing it gently.

Valeria stood abruptly. "This is outrageous. That boy is illegitimate! Gideon was manipulated—"

"Sit down, Mrs. Monroe," the judge snapped. "This court will not tolerate outbursts."

She seethed but obeyed.

The lawyer pressed on.

"Furthermore, should Adrian be unable to fulfill the role or perish before the age of twenty-five, full ownership shall revert to Ella Monroe."

Ella blinked. A safeguard?

"The appointed trustee... Mr. Paul Lemaire."

Paul looked as stunned as she was.

"You will manage all assets until Adrian comes of age."

Valeria turned toward Paul with venom. "This is a setup."

Paul didn't respond. He kept his gaze locked on the document.

---

Later that evening, in Gideon's now-quiet mansion, Ella sat alone in the study, the heavy will folder in her lap. Everything about it felt surreal.

The fire crackled, casting long shadows on the bookshelves. Her childhood memories were etched into this room—her father's laughter, stern lectures, secret conversations she was never meant to overhear.

She turned to the photo of her parents on the desk. Her mother's eyes were sad, distant even then. Her father smiled, arm wrapped around them both, as if nothing in the world could shatter them.

Yet everything had.

Paul entered quietly, holding two cups of coffee.

"Thought you could use this."

"Thanks."

He sat across from her. "How are you holding up?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "Adrian's just a kid. How can he own a company like Monroe International?"

"He won't, not really. Not until he's grown. Which means... for now, it falls to us."

She stared into the steam of her coffee. "Valeria's not going to let this go."

"She's already filed a motion to contest the will," he said grimly. "But it won't hold. Gideon was meticulous. And sober when he made those changes."

Ella exhaled slowly. "Why me, Paul? Why not Valeria? Or one of the board?"

"Because he didn't trust them. And maybe... he wanted to give you something he couldn't while alive. A chance to lead. To heal."

She looked up at him. "And you? Do you trust me with all this?"

His gaze softened. "I always have."

Their eyes lingered, heat rising between them, but before anything could be said, Adrian burst into the room.

"The news! It's on! They're saying stuff about Dad!"

They rushed to the living room. The TV was blaring.

Breaking News: Leaked Footage Raises Questions About Gideon Monroe's Death

A grainy video filled the screen—Gideon in a heated argument with Doreen in the mansion kitchen. The audio crackled but phrases stood out:

"This can't go on forever, Doreen!"

"You promised me more! You said she'd be gone!"

"You're losing it."

Then the screen went black.

Ella covered her mouth. Adrian looked pale.

Paul switched off the TV.

"Someone's playing a very dangerous game."

Ella's heart pounded. "It has to be Doreen. She's trying to manipulate things from prison."

Paul nodded. "We need to be ready."

---

Two days later, Ella stood outside the juvenile court office, the petition for guardianship in her hands. Adrian clung to her side, eyes wide, confused.

Inside, Valeria was already waiting.

"I won't let you steal him," she hissed under her breath.

"He's my brother. I'm not stealing anything."

Valeria stepped closer. "You're soft, Ella. Just like your mother. You don't have what it takes to lead this family. Or that company."

"Maybe not. But I won't poison people to get my way."

The clerk called them in.

Ella turned to Adrian, kneeling to meet his eyes.

"No matter what happens in there, I won't let anyone hurt you. You hear me?"

He nodded slowly.

As they walked into the courtroom, Ella felt a fire ignite inside her. The game had changed. The war for Gideon's legacy was just beginning.

And she intended to win.

---

As night fell, across town, in her stark prison cell, Doreen Castille smirked as she read the early news reports.

The footage leak had worked.

They were all panicking, just as she hoped. The wheels of doubt had been set in motion, the first ripple of a storm she would command.

She traced the photo of Adrian she had hidden in her journal. Her son. Her legacy.

"You took everything from me, Gideon. But I will take it back."

Her cellmate eyed her warily. "You're not done yet, are you?"

"Done?" Doreen laughed softly. "I'm just getting started."

Somewhere in her network, a burner phone buzzed with a message she had arranged weeks earlier:

"Phase Two: Initiate."