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you.”

At the sound of Mom’s voice, I turned in my seat to make sure I hadn’t misheard her. But no, she seemed very confident in her wording, and when her eyes found mine, I shook my head.

“Why would he do that? The winery is as much your place as it is his. You’re alive—it should automatically go to you.”

“Noah—”

“No. This is such bullshit. Even from the grave he’s disrespecting you.”

“It’s not like that.”

“It is like that. But you know what, it doesn’t matter anyway because I don’t want it. I’ll just sign my deed over to you.”

Mom opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, John cleared his throat.

“There something you want to say?” I asked.

“Actually, yes. Like I was saying before, there’s some new provisions added to details of Harry’s will. Some requirements that need to be met before the deeds are handed over.”

“Of course there is.” I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, wondering when the day would come that Harry would stop pulling the puppet strings.

“Requirements?” Ryan said, when it was clear I’d run out of patience for this shit. Here I’d thought it would be fuck you, you get nothing, Noah, and then we’d be done. Apparently not.

“Yes. I can start with the oldest and work my way down if you like?”

“Lucky me,” I said.

Justin smirked, and I wasn’t sure if it was in response to my words or my suffering.

“I assume you’re Noah,” John said, looking in my direction.

“You assume right.”

“Very good. Let’s get to this, then. I, Harry Chamberlin, of sound mind and body, hereby bequeath all my personal assets to my wife, Emily Rebecca Chamberlin. This includes our home and our personal investments. The family business, Chamberlin Winery, is to be divided between our children.”

What the hell had Harry been thinking? Clearly, he hadn’t been. But before I could voice my opinion on that, John kept talking.

“My eldest son, Noah Harry Chamberlin, will receive the deed to his portion of the property one year after he has lived and worked as the new CEO of Chamberlin Winery, at which time he can sell, give away, or keep the property for himself. If he chooses to leave and disregards these wishes, his portion of the vineyard and any money procured from it will be signed over to the town that his forefathers founded.”

“What? Wait a fucking minute. Are you serious with this shit? I live in Italy. I have a business there.”

“Sorry,” John said as he looked up from his papers. “That’s what it says.”

“So I can’t sign it over to Mom?”

“Unfortunately, no. If you leave, the will states that your part of the business will be signed over to the town.”

“Can you believe this?” I said, as I looked down the table to where Mom sat with a stoic expression on her face.

“If this is what your father wanted, then—”

“Fuck that.”

Mom’s eyes widened.

“We’ve all been doing what he wanted for years. That’s the reason I left. There’s no way I’m going to let him pull this shit now.”

“Oh yeah?” A low laugh came from across the table, and when I cut my eyes to Justin, a smug smile curved his lips. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“You know, I wouldn’t be feeling too superior if I were you. Your terms haven’t been read yet.”

“What’s the worst he could do? Restrict me to town? Oh no.”

“And are you Ryan or Justin?” John said.

“Justin.”

“It states here: to my youngest son, Justin Marcus Chamberlin, fellow co-owner of Chamberlin Winery, I bequeath any profits that come from his share. He may collect his allowance from the new CEO—Noah Harry Chamberlin—and family accountant Abigail Fairmont once a month.”

“Hang on, Noah is in charge of my fucking money?”

It was my turn to look smug. “Not laughing so hard now, are we?”

Justin clenched his teeth as he glared at poor John, who seemed worried we were about to launch ourselves at one another across the table. “Technically, Abigail will be looking after the money, but yes, Noah will have to sign off on it.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Justin said, shaking his head. “What else does it say?”

“That the deed to your portion of the business will be signed over to you after you work a year at the winery in some capacity.”

Justin swiveled in his chair to face Mom. “Are you really trying to say you didn’t know about this? You’ve been trying to get me to work there for years.”

“Justin,” Ryan said. “Stop it.”

Justin shook his head, his annoyance riding him almost as hard as mine was. But I was too busy trying to work out my own problems to think about what his were.

This was so like Harry. Issuing ultimatums even from the fucking grave. I wasn’t about to move to Chamberlin for a year, though. God, he was such an asshole. But then again, what else was new?

“No, I want to know.” Justin’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts and back into reality.

“Knock it off, Justin,” I said.

“I didn’t know anything about this.” Mom’s voice was eerily calm as she looked between the four of us. “The last I heard, he was going to leave the business to the four of you. That’s all I knew. I didn’t know it came with a set of conditions.”

Justin slumped back in his seat. “Why am I being treated like some kind of kid? Do Brianna and Ryan have to go to Noah and Moneypenny over there?”

I could’ve sworn the accountant’s spine stiffened at the nickname. But she remained silent.

John was looking back down at the paper. “Brianna, is it?”

Brianna nodded, then looked to Ryan and me with what I could only describe as fear in her eyes.

“Let’s see here. To my daughter, Brianna Emily Chamberlin, fellow co-owner of Chamberlin Winery, I bequeath any profits that come from her share. She may access her trust fund from the new CEO—Noah Harry Chamberlin—and family accountant Abigail Fairmont after she completes college.”

Brianna rolled

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