Chapter 135: Mr. Pedro’s will
The lawyers exchanged a brief glance before one of them nodded and opened the file. "We will begin with the late Mr. Pedro’s will."
Amira’s heart began to race. Her eyes moved to Amara again. Please... just look at me. But Amara didn’t. She simply listened. The lawyer cleared his throat and began reading.
Assets. Shares. Properties. Then. "The entirety of the company and associated estates are to be transferred to..."
A pause. Amira’s breath stopped. "...Amira." Silence. Heavy. The lawyer continued, unaware. "With a personal note attached..." He adjusted the paper slightly. "’I’m sorry for not being the father you truly deserve.’"
Amira’s chest tightened. But her eyes weren’t on the lawyer. They were on Amara. Waiting. Watching. Say something... react... anything... But Amara.. Smiled.
Just slightly. And that was worse than anger. Because it wasn’t a surprise. It wasn’t a shock. It was... understanding. Like she had just watched something confirm what she already knew.
Slowly, Amara leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly against the table. So this is why... she murmured, almost to herself. Her gaze finally lifted. And landed on Amira.
For the first time. Direct. Clear. Unshaken. So this is why you betrayed me again."
Amira’s throat tightened instantly. "Amara, what wny are you looking at me like that—"
But Amara raised her hand slightly. Not aggressively. Just enough to stop her. Her eyes flickered briefly toward the document in front of the lawyer. She knew the will was a forgery but decided to keep quiet.
"What..." she said calmly, her voice carrying quiet authority, "You have something to hide." The word dropped into the room like a stone. The lawyers froze.
Amira’s face went pale. And Amara. Amara didn’t look shaken at all. Because she already knew. Everything.
"Please... go on," Amara said. Her voice didn’t waver. If anything, it steadied the room.
The lawyer adjusted his glasses and continued reading, though a hint of hesitation had crept into his tone now.
"And to Amara, my beloved princess... I leave a monthly allowance of three hundred thousand dollars... and the Pedro estate."
Silence followed. Not the peaceful kind. The kind that presses on your chest. Amira’s eyes snapped to her sister. Now... This was the moment. The moment Amara would react. Stand. Object. Tear the lie apart.
She waited for it. Almost begged for it. Because if Amara spoke, if she exposed it, then maybe... just maybe... everything could still be undone.
But Amara didn’t move. She just sat there. Calm. Unbothered. Untouchable. And that calmness. It cracked something inside Amira.
The guilt she had been holding back all night surged forward, tightening around her throat, making it harder to breathe.
The lawyer cleared his throat again. "That concludes the reading of the will." He looked between them.
"Do you both accept?" Amira didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed on Amara. Waiting. Still hoping. Amara gave a small nod.
"Sure." The word dropped so easily that it almost didn’t feel real. Then she added, just as calmly.
"Could you arrange for my monthly allowance to be donated to the foundation?" Amira blinked. Confusion flickered across her face.
"What?" She stared at her sister, disbelief mixing with something sharper.
"What now?" she said, her voice rising slightly, unable to hold it back anymore. "Suddenly, you don’t want anything from our father?"
A bitter laugh slipped out. "Or is it because you realized he loved me, too? Enough to leave everything to me... and nothing to you?"
The words came out harshly. Defensive. Laced with something that sounded a lot like hurt.
Amara looked at her. Really looked at her. And there was no anger in her eyes. No fight. Just... quiet understanding.
"Whatever you say, Amira." Her tone was soft. Almost gentle. But it didn’t yield.
"He left me the house we grew up in," she continued. "He left me the memories... the happy times."
A small pause. And then... "He did leave me something." That landed heavier than any argument.
Amira’s breath hitched. Because suddenly. This didn’t feel like winning. Not at all.
"And what about our mother’s will?" Amira’s voice cut through the room, sharper now, impatient, restless, as if she needed something else to prove this was real.
The second lawyer glanced down at his file, then back up. "For the late Arabella..." he began, carefully, "there is a letter addressed to Amara."
A pause. Amira’s brows furrowed. "And me?" The lawyer didn’t hesitate. "Nothing."
The word landed flat. Final. Amira let out a small scoff, lifting her chin slightly as if to brush it off. "Whatever," she said quickly, too quickly. "The company is mine now."
Silence followed. All eyes shifted to Amara. She didn’t react. Didn’t argue. Didn’t even blink. "Yes," she said simply. "It’s yours."
That... unsettled Amira more than anything else that had happened so far. Because it felt too easy. Too clean. "Well," Amara continued, her voice smooth, composed, "since we are all here... you can finalize everything."
One of the lawyers nodded slowly, though uncertainty flickered in his eyes. "Ma’am... there is something wrong with the..."
"James." Amara didn’t even look at him when she said it. But it stopped him. Immediately. Her tone wasn’t harsh. Just decisive. A quiet command.
James paused, then lowered his voice. "Yes, ma’am." He stepped back. But his eyes lingered on her for a second longer.
Because he knew. He knew something wasn’t right. And so did she. Amara sat there, calm as ever, her fingers resting lightly against the table. She had seen the will. She had heard her father’s voice.
She knew the truth. This everything happening in this room. Was a lie. A carefully arranged lie. But she didn’t stop it. Didn’t expose it. Didn’t fight it. Because for the first time. She didn’t want to.
Her gaze shifted briefly to Amira. To the tension in her shoulders. To the way her confidence felt... forced. Fragile. If you want it that badly... Amara’s lips pressed together faintly.
Take it. She leaned back slightly in her chair. Because sometimes. Letting someone have what they think they want... Is the fastest way to remove them from your life completely. No more betrayal. No more pretending. No more second chances. Just distance.
Clean. Final. At least... I’ll finally be free of the poison. The meeting continued around her papers, moving, voices speaking, signatures being prepared. But Amara. Amara had already checked out.
Not defeated. Not broken. Just... done.