Chapter 43

The next morning as I came down the stairs smothering a yawn, Brian was flipping through channels on the TV, the volume blasting. With a shake of my head, I made my way toward the kitchen, then uttered a groan as I stepped into the room. Pots, pans, dishes and the makings of God only knew what, were everywhere; they overflowed the sink, the counters, and spilled over onto the floor. As I gazed at the sight before me, I couldn’t help thinking, damn Brian, what the hell did you make that could have possibly made this big of a mess*? Jesus, I mean, I loved having Brian as a roommate, but the guy had no respect for cleanliness.

With a shake of my head, I gave one last look at the disaster, then turned on my heel and exited the room. Nope, not dealing with it today!

As I was passing the front door, my steps were abruptly stilled by the knocking that came from the outside of it.

~~

Moments later, the last thing I expected to see when I swung the door open was the sight of a man in a sharp suit, his hair perfectly combed and a briefcase in hand. He carried about him an air of authority. "Miss Mills?" he inquired, his voice smooth.

I nodded, still in my pajamas, my eyes squinting against the brightness of the day. "Can I help you?"

"My name is Richard Stevens," he said, extending his hand. "I'm an attorney representing the estate of Torin Montero."

My heart stopped. It had been a year since Torin's passing, and hearing his name out loud was like a punch to the gut. I took the man's hand, my grip shaky. "What do you want?" I asked, my voice a mere whisper.

He took a step back, as if giving me space. "I'm here to inform you that Mr. Montero had left a substantial sum of money in your name."

I blinked, trying to process his words. "What?"

He cleared his throat, his eyes never leaving mine. "Torin was a very wealthy man, a billionaire to be exact. And before his untimely death, he made sure to leave his assets to those who meant the most to him. You, my dear, are one of the beneficiaries."

My knees felt like jelly, and I had to lean against the doorframe to stay upright. A billionaire? Torin? It couldn't be true—the man I knew lived in a compound, not a mansion. He rode a motorcycle, not a private jet. "How much?" I managed to croak out.

Mr. Stevens handed me a thick envelope. "The exact amount is in there," he said, his expression unreadable. "But let's just say it's enough to ensure you never have to work another day in your life."

I took the envelope with trembling hands, feeling its weight like a brick in my grasp. A billionaire? The man I had shared laughs, tears, and heartbreak with? This was too much to comprehend.

"Are you okay?" Brian asked, his voice gruff as he wrapped an arm around my waist, his eyes filled with concern.

I nodded, but my mind was a whirlwind of disbelief and grief. "I need to sit down," I murmured.

Seconds later we sat around the kitchen table, the envelope like a ticking time bomb between us.

"What are you going to do?" Brian asked, his voice tentative.

I shook my head. "I don't know. I can't believe it."

Brian leaned over, his eyes on the envelope. "You should open it," he urged.

With trembling fingers, I did. Inside was a letter, Torin's handwriting unmistakable. My eyes scanned the page, the words swimming before me.

Dear Marlowe,
If you're reading this, then I didn't make it back. But maybe, just maybe, this can give you everything you deserve.
Yours,
Torin

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I read the words. The pain of his loss washed over me again, but now it was mixed with a sense of anger and betrayal. Why hadn't he told me? Why had he kept this secret from me?

Brian grabbed my hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "You're going to be okay," he reassured.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. "What do I do now?"

Brian cleared his throat. "Your life as you know it is about to become very different."

The truth of his words hit me like a ton of bricks. A billionaire's inheritance.

Brian squeezed my hand. "Let's go to the bar," he suggested. "We can talk there. Plus, Tannin is there. She can help with this. I suck at it."

I nodded. The bar, my sanctuary, was the one place where I could always find peace, even amidst the chaos.

As we drove through the quiet streets, the rain had stopped, leaving the world fresh and clean. The bar looked the same, but everything felt different. The lights, the music, the smell of the whiskey—it was all somehow different by the revelation of Torin's true identity.

As we made our way to the bar, the usual patrons greeted us with nods and smiles, unaware of the earth-shattering news I now carried.

Tannin hurried over, peering at me, then looking at Brian, she asked, "What's going on?"

Brian gave her a brief run down and as I sat at the counter, the envelope still in my hand, Tannin poured us both a drink, the amber liquid a comforting presence. "So, what's the plan?" she asked, her voice gentle.

I took a deep breath, the whiskey burning a path down my throat. "I don't know," I admitted. "I need to think."

The night passed in a blur, the whiskey helping to numb the pain. The bar was packed, the energy high. Yet, I felt detached from it all, my mind racing with thoughts of Torin and the life he had led.

Later, as we closed the bar, I made a decision. I would use the inheritance, but I wouldn't let it change me. I would use it to keep the bar running. But the letter, the whispers of his true life, they haunted me. The love I had felt for him was real, but now it was tainted by the shadow of his past.

I climbed into LadyBug, the engine purring to life beneath me.

As I drove through the city, the buildings and streets a blur, I knew one thing for sure. The path ahead was going to be different, but I was ready to face it head-on.