“Love, huh?” I sat back.

“Yeah. I love her. I haven’t told her, but this isn’t about that.” He tapped the papers. “How are you feeling about Liam’s parents doing this?”

“I’m furious.” My voice was monotone.

“Okay. Yeah.” He coughed into his hand. “I can see that. My firm does work in property law. You paid for your home in full?”

I nodded. “With cash.”

“And who primarily paid for it? Was it you and Liam? Was it mainly just Liam?”

“It was Liam.” I slid my hands under my legs. They were beginning to tremble. “I paid for the insurance, and I helped with the furniture, but it was mostly his money.” I had to swallow a lump in my throat. “It was all his money.”

“Okay.” His eyes drifted from me to the papers, then to the floor. “Your name isn’t on the title, but you’re his wife. They don’t have a case. However, if you wanted to make this go away more quickly, you could show them a copy of your accounts—where it shows that it was Liam’s money, and not money put into his account by your in-laws. That would be enough to make this completely go away, but you don’t have to do that. As your lawyer, I wouldn’t advise you to show your bank statements for any reason.”

“And as a friend?”

“If you want to make this go away so your in-laws aren’t fucking with you, I’d just show them the proof. They have to go away then.”

I wanted them to go away. I wanted to go away. I nodded. “I can do that. Liam got his inheritance when he turned thirty. So that money would’ve been in there before.”

“And that’s how he paid for the house?”

I nodded. “I didn’t know it at the time, but yes. He got twenty million from his grandmother’s estate. I found out about it at the funeral. Carol, his mother, told me. The lawyers came over later with all the paperwork.”

“Okay. Those were her lawyers or Liam’s lawyers?”

I tried to remember. “They were lawyers. I don’t know if they were Liam’s or his parents’.”

“They should’ve been Liam’s, but sometimes family members use the same firm. Did Liam get along with his family?”

“No.” This conversation was ripping me open. “He and his younger brother didn’t get along with their parents. There’s a sister, and she did, but Liam didn’t get along with her either. I mean, Liam had lunch with her sometimes until she began trying to introduce him to other women. She didn’t like me.” My voice sounded so strange right now, like it was another person talking.

“Do you remember who came over with the inheritance papers?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“So, okay. I think if you can remember the name of the firm Liam worked with, I’ll have my firm reach out to them. That would help because we don’t want them coming back and suing you for validity of inheritance. We’ll make sure everything is in order. This shouldn’t be a problem. I don’t know how it even could, to be honest. People can sue for anything these days. Most claims are bullshit, but if you don’t want to prolong this—”

“No. I know. I’ll do that. It’s fine.” I nodded, and that was it. We made plans for our next meeting, which would be held at his actual place of business. I was about to head for the elevator when he asked, “What about Sia?”

“What do you mean?”

“Technically this is confidential information with attorney-client privilege, so you tell me. I don’t have to say a word to her, if you don’t want me to.”

“Oh.” I blinked. Sia hated Carol. “Maybe not, for now. I don’t want to be sued for my ex-mother-in-law’s death. Sia tends to look for pitchforks whenever she talks about Carol.”

Jake laughed. “That sounds like Sia. Okay. I think we’re set then. I’ll see you in a few days. My office will call you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Jake.”

“Not a problem. We’ll take care of you.”

Those words—take care of you.

I hit the button for my floor and leaned back. It’d been a long time since I’d heard words like that. When the elevator stopped, I was expecting it to open on my floor, but I looked up and realized I was at the lobby instead, and Ken stood right before me. His hands were folded in front of him, and his head was slightly bowed.

He cleared his throat. “There’s been a request from our mutual acquaintance. He’d like for you to pack an overnight bag and your identification. There’s a car waiting for you outside.”

“What?”

“You’ll be driven to the airport. Mr. Cole is unable to come here, so he’d like to bring you to him instead.”

The car drove me to the airport and dropped me off in the private planes section, pulling up outside a hangar. A Ken look-alike waited for me—similar greying hair, his hands folded in front of his dark blue suit, kind eyes warming as he nodded a small smile to me.

He held his hand out, gesturing toward a set of stairs that led to a private plane. “Ms. Bowman, I imagine?”

I nodded, still dazed from what Ken had said. “Uh, yeah.”

“The plane is prepped and ready. You’ll be landing at JFK shortly, and another car will be waiting for you there.” He bowed, just briefly. “Have a wonderful trip.”