Series: Silver Spoon MC Series by Nichole Rose
Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
"She was young." Domani scowls. "Our father was an unscrupulous bastard."
"Did she… Was she…happy when she died?" I whisper.
"Yeah, piccolina," he says. "She was happy. She found a good man and a measure of peace. She never forgot you, but she was happy."
Finn thumbs a tear from my cheek.
"That's good," I say, running my finger over the final picture of her in the stack. "Did she ever have kids?"
"No," Domani says, his voice gentle.
A tiny piece of my heart breaks for her. He's right. Our father was an unscrupulous bastard. He probably never thought twice about me, but Silvia never forgot me. I think she probably grieved for me right up until the day she died. That's sad to me. She deserved peace. She deserved babies.
"We'll find a way to celebrate her," Finn whispers in my ear, running the back of his hand down my cheek. "Whatever you want, pretty baby."
I nod gratefully, slipping the photos back into the envelope. "Thank you for bringing these," I say, holding them out for Domani.
"Keep them, Scarlett. I brought them for you."
"What the fuck is this?" Finn demands, holding up the sheaf of papers.
Domani glances from me to him and then back to me. "The documentation for her trust fund," he says quietly.
"The…what?"
"You're a Brambilla, sorellina. That means you're entitled to half of our father's estate." He pauses. "It's quite sizeable."
"I…" I gape at him, my head spinning.
"How sizeable?" Finn demands.
Domani flicks his gaze in Finn's direction. "She's worth several million dollars. I finalized the paperwork to sign it over to her before I flew out."
"Jesus Christ," Giant whistles.
Heavens to Betsy.
I wheeze, feeling a little like I might pass out.
"Breathe, pretty baby," Finn says, dropping the paperwork to pull me into his lap.
I press my face to his throat, breathing him in. His familiar scent steadies me, calming the furious pounding of my heart and the dull roar clamoring for attention in my head. I let him hold me, trying to process this news. Five minutes ago, I was normal. Now, I'm a millionaire.
Somehow, this is actually my life. How does a girl like me go from having no one but my aunt to having the perfect man, a long-lost, badass brother, and a family fortune? It doesn't seem real. If I wake up in bed tomorrow and this is all some elaborate dream, I'm going to be so mad at the universe!
"I don't want it," I blurt, lifting my head to look at Finn and then Domani.
They both stare at me in silence.
"I don't want it," I repeat. "The money, I mean." I grimace apologetically at my brother. "Please don't take this the wrong way because I'm so happy to have you in my life, and I hope you'll be in my life for a long time to come, but Enzo Brambilla wasn't my father. Clarke Crawford was my dad. He loved me fiercely and fought for me every single day. He didn't raise me to need a trust fund or millions of dollars or a fancy estate. I already have everything I need. I have the perfect boyfriend, and a crazy, amazing aunt, and a badass brother. I have a fun job and a great boss and everything I could possibly need. There's absolutely nothing that money could add to my life that I don't already have."
"She has my money," Finn says. "She'll never want for anything."
"The person it could have helped—Silvia—died over a year ago," I say quietly. "She needed that money twenty-five years ago when she was pregnant and alone and afraid. Giving it to me now won't change the past. It can't." I exhale a breath. "I don't need the money, Domani. If you don't want it, give it to those who do need it. There are thousands of other women out there in her shoes."
He eyes me silently for a long moment. "Are you sure, piccolina?"
"She's sure," Finn says, his voice firm.
Domani dips his head in a nod, silently giving in. Pride wells in my chest and leaks from the corners of my eyes. This is the right thing to do. This is how we celebrate Silvia. And if it leaves our father rolling over in his grave…well, he can't say he doesn't deserve it.
Chapter Ten
Finn
"Heavens to Betsy," Scarlett blurts, sitting bolt upright in the bed with her hands on her cheeks. "I actually turned down several million dollars."
"You did," I say, grinning ear to ear.
"Am I feverish?" She grabs my hand, slapping it across her forehead. "I am, aren't I?"
"You aren't feverish."
"Are you sure? Maybe I've gone completely around the bend like Aunt Ophelia," she mumbles, talking more to herself than to me. "That explains it, right? Her bad influence is rubbing off on me and now I just say whatever pops into my head without even thinking it through."