Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
My curiosity spikes above my swirling emotions. “Steps?”
“Yes.” Gavin hands me a swab. “First, a DNA test to confirm his paternity.”
I glance at it, annoyed. “You called me, not the other way around, and now I have to be the one to prove myself?”
“There is much at stake, and it’s standard procedure, in case there are any legal challenges from other family members,” he explains calmly. “Once I have your sample, we can head out to the house, and discuss the other matters you have to attend to; the funeral, the reading of his will, that sort of thing.”
My sense of fair play wins over my annoyance. With a sigh, I take the swab. Feeling quite absurd, I press it to the inside of my cheek and twist it around before handing it back. Gavin carefully pops it into a glass tube and seals it all in a clear bag.
“I think it’s time to tell you who your father was,” he adds, almost as an afterthought. “I’m sure you will have heard of him. He was a very prominent figure. His name was Joseph Manswell.”
What? I blink. No, it can’t be. He can’t mean … “The tech billionaire, Joseph Manswell?” I finally venture cautiously, still in total disbelief.
Gavin nods.
The world tilts, and I stare at him in shock. Wow! Joseph Manswell, one of the most influential, most celebrated, smartest, and richest men in the world, was my father. I swallow hard. It’s almost too fantastical to believe. I am the daughter of a freaking billionaire! The world tilts again.
If it wasn’t for the seriousness of the moment, I would be certain this whole thing is a wind-up, but Gavin doesn’t look like the kind of man to prank anyone, let alone pay for a transatlantic flight on a private plane for a joke.
“I … right,” I manage. “Ok. That’s … wow.”
Gavin inclines his head politely. “Yes, he was quite something. The world has lost a great mind. I worked for him for twenty years, and I have to say, he never failed to impress me with his brilliance. Now, if you follow me, I have arranged transport for you. You will be staying at his estate, Oak Grove. Betty, the housekeeper, will meet you there and take care of you.”
Gavin takes me to a waiting black limo.
“Your suitcase is already in the trunk,” he informs. “So, I will leave you to get settled in tonight, and I will be in touch tomorrow with more details.” He hands me a business card, and I take it. “In the meantime, if you need anything, you can either ask Betty or call me.”
I thank him, and he smiles slightly.
“I know this is all a lot to take in,” he says. “Don’t worry if it all feels a bit surreal right now, but it will get better.”
That’s exactly how it feels, and I nod gratefully. He holds open the rear door of the car, and I get in. As he slides into the driver’s seat, the driver greets me politely by name, then starts pulling away. In a daze, I take in the unfamiliar streets of New York. Soon, the city gives way to mansions ablaze with lights and set far back into perfectly manicured grounds.
When the car drives into a tall set of black gates, I can barely breathe. It’s a hulking huge mansion. Colossal, imposing, and made from white stone it has at least four floors. Six massive columns hold up the front structure. On either side of me are sweeping front lawns of rich green. On the left, there is a large lake with a fountain. Water pours out of the mouths of a group of roaring stone lions.
Everything about the property screams immense wealth, power, and control.
My heart starts beating really fast. This can’t be real. Things like this don’t happen to me. We come to a stop, and I get out gingerly. The driver silently reunites me with my suitcase, and I thank him. He tips his hat at me and gets back into the car. For a moment, I stand where I am, butterflies fluttering in my belly, and watch the car drive away. My life is about to change in a big way and I’m not sure I want it to. I love the little life I have built in England, with my job, my apartment, and my intimate group of friends.
Then, before I can chicken out entirely, I balance my laptop bag on the top of my suitcase and start to wheel it towards the big house. The door opens before I reach it. A petite woman stands at the massive doorway, looking out at me. She looks to be in her mid-thirties. Her red curls are pinned up neatly, and her hazel eyes are bright and quick. When she smiles, they light up.