Her Ch. 02

"Come here," said Heather, holding her arms outstretched. There were remnants of a tear still visible on her eyes. She looked overwhelmed. Looking around, Samuel Findley could see that they all felt a little bit that way.

As his sister squeezed him, Sam choked down his own feelings. Joe, the family lawyer, was behind a large mahogany desk with a neat stack of papers, a chunky laptop, and some highlighters to the side. Joseph's eyes were wandering around the room nervously. Uncle John and Aunt Sue were here. They weren't actually related, but they were close friends of the family and he'd known them for as long as he could remember. His cousin Joanna was seated with her husband behind them. Hilda was on the other side.

"That's twice we've all gathered together and nobody's started a fight yet. Dad would have been amazed," said Sam. Heather smiled, then finally let him go. She took a step behind him.

"Come on Nolan, you're not getting away either," she said. His son rolled his eyes a little before acquiescing. "Jack sends his regards, but he couldn't get out of work." Sam nodded a silent acknowledgement.

There was also one other person in the room - someone that he didn't recognise. Seated on the left just in front of the large mahogany desk was an attractive young woman, who, upon noticing his glance, stood and approached him with a hand outstretched.

"I'm Krista, Krista Olsson," she said. He shook her hand and smiled politely. "I saw you at the funeral, but I didn't get a chance to introduce myself. I'm very sorry for your loss."

Although she wasn't quite his type, there was no denying that Krista was a bit of a looker. She was a head shorter than he was, athletic yet busty, elegant, with long blonde hair and beautiful eyes. Her clothes straddled the line between tasteful and risqué - lovely red evening-wear with a plunging neckline that beckoned his eyes to stare.

"Thanks. I'm Sam, or Samuel, whichever you prefer" he replied. "I'm sorry we couldn't be meeting under more pleasant circumstances."

Samuel was what his father always called him. It was also what the hospital staff had called him when he received the news. Arthur J.M. Findley had died shortly after colliding with a road barrier, five kilometres from his home on a hairpin bend. His father didn't normally drive himself anywhere, but that day he'd made an exception for some reason. The police had later told him that although there was negligible alcohol in his system, he was on "something" - they didn't know what.

A mere three days after the funeral, Joe had sent him a message about the reading of the will. He told him that he wasn't interested in talking about that just yet, but the lawyer was doggedly insistent that it be dealt with sooner rather than later. He was surprised by how little push-back there was from the rest of the family. Maybe they really need the money, he thought.

He took one of the free seats. A moment later, as he was settling in, Nolan tapped him on the shoulder.

"Check it out, Uncle Joe's got a thing for that girl," he whispered into Sam's ear.

Sure enough, the lawyer had a big stupid smile on his face, staring at Krista, who was pretending not to notice. Sam cleared his throat as loud as he could, which seemed to snap Joseph out of his daydream.

"Aherm, now that everybody's here, I suppose we can start," he said. His smile had faded. "First of all - Arthur Findley was an incredible man. I know I already spoke at the funeral of our long friendship, but he meant something to every one of us. And you all meant something to him, too. He did his best to look after all of us in life, and he planned to continue doing so in the event of his death. Everybody in this room today has been invited because you are named as a beneficiary in his will."

Heather gave Sam a puzzled look, then gestured her head subtly towards Krista. He shrugged.

"I don't think I need to tell anybody here that Arthur led a very successful life, and the estate he left behind was considerable. I hope you'll bare with me. I'll do my best to explain anything confusing and will be happy to answer questions that anybody has. There are a few details that won't be relevant to people here, particularly in relation to charitable donations, but the bulk of it is to be dispersed among all of you here."

The room collectively shifted in their seats.

"First of all, in terms of liquid assets, two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars are to be given to Hilda, in honour of her many years help in making the Findley residence not just a house, but a home."

Sam and Heather both turned to smile at her, and she let out a small outburst of emotion.

"To Joseph, my faithful friend - oh gosh I can't read this bit out It's going to make me blush - I leave one hundred thousand dollars, and you're lucky to get that because you don't even need it," he said. Several people laughed.

"To Nolan and Joanna, the sum of two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars will also be given. All remaining liquid assets at the time of his passing should be assigned in proportional shares to the remaining beneficiaries along the lines described below in the division of property and company holdings."

He almost looked like he was sweating. He looked over at Krista, who nodded and said something too quiet to hear. Joe took a deep breath, then continued.

"To my loving wife, I leave the primary residence," he said, then made a gesture to the room around them. To my son Samuel, I leave ownership of the Bellefort property, and to my daughter Heather, I leave the townhouse. All remaining properties are to be liquidated and given, along with equal stakes in all companies and businesses, to these three individuals, save for the portion allocated to charitable organisations listed below."

"Sorry to interrupt," said Heather, "But since mum already passed away, what happens to the portion of assets that would have passed to her, originally?"

The lawyer looked down at the papers, and then around the room. He looked everywhere except at Heather, before casting his eyes downward again. He seemed to be having trouble speaking.

"The will... it doesn't specify that it's referring to Adrienne," he said after a long, awkward silence. "It's referencing his wife. In the event that he remarried, pending a change in the will, it would therefore be granted to her."

"Hold on," said Heather. "What exactly are you saying? Are you implying..."

"Yes," Krista suddenly interjected. "That is what he's implying."

The room fell silent as everybody processed this new information. Heather looked over at Jo, who was refusing to meet her gaze once again.

"Her?" she said.

"Bullshit!" said Sam. "I've never seen this woman before in my life. Hilda, do you know this person?"

"He was seeing this woman, yes, she came around here once or twice," said Hilda, hesitantly. "This is the first I've heard about marriage."

"Please calm down everyone," said Joe. "I know this is a lot to take in, but what your father chose to do with his life was his own business. There is no need to get angry at this young lady."

Predictably, telling people to calm down had rather the opposite effect. The room descended into a yelling match - even poor old Aunty Sue looked like she was ready to throw fists. For her part, Krista was silent. It was Joe that was defending her. After several more minutes of collective family meltdown, Heather stormed over to the exit.

"I always knew you were a fucking snake, Joe," she said. "And I'm going to prove that this alleged marriage never took place. Don't you forget that I'm a lawyer too." She pointed at Krista. "And you! You should be ashamed of yourself. I'm not going to let the two of you steal four hundred million fucking dollars from my family. And may I just say that this is raising a lot of questions in my mind about the circumstances around his death."

"Please Heather, don't -" said Joe, but it was too late. She was gone.

"This is getting absurd," said Sam. "Come on Nolan, let's get out of here."

As he started moving towards the exist, Krista stood behind him.

"I know it's hard to believe," she began, "But your father and I - we really were in love."

He turned and sized her up. She was cute, sure, and that cleavage was dynamite, but he could not imagine his father suddenly becoming one of those people so late in life.

"Lady, however charming you may be, nobody on earth was going to convince my dad to get remarried. He loved my mother more than life itself, and he was was stubborn as an ox. Maybe you were fucking him. Maybe you were even dating him. But there is no way you or Joe or anyone else made him change his mind on that point in the month since I've seen him."

"I'm sure I can explain. Please, if you'd just give me a chance?"

She stepped closer.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I want to hear anything you have to say. If you hear from me, it's going to be from my lawyer," said Sam.

He pointed at Joseph.

"And I don't mean you," Sam continued. "Jesus Christ Joe, what are you even doing? Are you really taking her side here? What's your stake in all of this? Is she your girlfriend or something?"

Joseph fidgeted nervously with pens on the desk.

"Are you sure there's nothing I could say to persuade you?" Krista said.

Suddenly, everything shifted. He could smell something, just at the edge of his perception. He wondered if it was Krista, then decided that it must have been. Whatever it was, it was incredible.

"Well, I..."

As she continued moving closer, he was also forced to revise his previous assessments. She wasn't just cute - she was easily the most attractive person he'd ever seen in his life.

"What about a dinner?" she said.

He knew this was a bad idea. She was either an outright fraud or at minimum a gold digger. She should be having dinner with movie stars, not people like him. Heather implying she was a murder seemed far fetched, but there was no denying that this was all incredibly suspicious. What could possibly be gained by agreeing?

It only took a fraction of a second for his logical brain to be drawn into conflict with a deeper, more primal part of himself; the parts that predated the emergence of grass in the fossil record. She was very nice to look at. Her skin glowed with a pleasant tan. Her bright blonde hair and hourglass figure could easily have graced the cover of the Playboy's he'd hidden from his father almost forty years ago. She looked like the kind of plaything that an oligarch took for parties on his mega-yacht in the Black Sea. There were so many worse ways he could imagine spending his time than in the presence of this walking wet dream.

Without even noticing, his eyes had wandered down into the cleavage he'd been struggling not to admire earlier. They traced the shapes, trying to imagine the exact point where her nipples were, and determining the best place to hold while he worshipped them.

"I..." he began to say to her breasts. The others in the room were staring at the two of them, probably wondering why they were standing so close together. He became suddenly very conscious that his own son was watching him fall to pieces in front of a woman who was scarcely older than he was.

He shook his head and took a step backwards.

"No, I don't think anything you could say will change my mind," said Sam. His voice betrayed his lack of confidence, but saying it out loud acted as a kind of affirmation, a weapon for use in the civil war that had broken out between his superego and id.

"We'll see," said Krista. Her smile turned into a look of slight irritation, but somehow that only seemed to make her even sexier. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to use the little ladies' room for a moment."

She walked past him, and he watched her go all the way, taking in the shape of her legs and arse. He could feel himself getting hard. Eventually she left, and he suddenly realised how openly he'd been gawking.

"Um, well anyway," he said, turning to Nolan, "let's get you back to your place."

* * *

Krista Olsson paced back and forth across the now empty room. Joseph still sat at the same mahogany desk, but his calm facade had collapsed after the last of the family had left. He still looked shell-shocked.

The last few weeks had been a disaster. She had everything she was working towards within her grasp, only for fate to snatch it back at the last minute. No weddings and a funeral, she mused. She had masterfully suppressed any thoughts that perhaps this was in some way her own fault, and was spending her energies focusing on what came next.

"Well, I can't say you didn't warn me," said Krista. "Heather can be quite a pain."

"Yeah," the lawyer replied. "She was always a little bit like that. But she's also intelligent and resourceful."

"And what are you? Stupid and unimaginative?"

He was about to say something in reply, but stopped. He was still dazed.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry sweety. I shouldn't snap at you," she continued. She walked over behind his desk. He tensed up, but when she started rubbing his shoulders, he sighed and started to relax.

She'd cornered Joseph at the funeral. He put up a fight at first, but unlike Arthur, the lawyer very much did have a weakness for young women. He was practically hypnotised by her tits before she'd even dosed him. He was all too eager to blow off his wife for a night of excess at his expense, culminating in him on his knees, lapping up her pussy and confessing his love for her. It would have been almost cute if it wasn't so pathetic.

"It's just, I'm so worked up," she continued. "And I can feel in your shoulders that you are too. You've been working so hard, and what you did today was so important, for both of us." Joe let out some small sounds as she increased the pressure.

"You forgive me, don't you?" she whispered into his ear. Joseph nodded softly. "I'm so glad, darling. You know I could never stand to have you angry with me."

"I know that it's for us. I just..." he began. "I just feel so terrible. I've known them all for so long, and they trusted me. They're never going to forgive me for this."

As easy as he was to seduce, it had taken a lot more effort to talk him up to what they'd done today, and it still seemed like she had a lot of work to do. She was moving faster than she had with Arthur. She'd been overly cautious with him - he was the big score. She felt more confident twisting such a weak little man.

"Come now, don't be like that. Of course they'll forgive you. We just have to give them a chance to understand our position a little better, that's all." He stared downwards, obviously unconvinced. "If she does contest this, what do you think of her chances?"

"It's not really a case of contesting the will," he said. "That's genuine, and they'll never find the updated will he made, I made sure of that. So we're solid. In this case she'd be trying to prove firstly that the marriage wasn't real, and... well... I think if somebody really started looking into this, it's going to be pretty trivial to prove. There aren't going to be any records on file." He bore a pained expression. "I'm worried, Krista. We don't have a lot of options here that wouldn't put us in court, and with pretty bad odds. Assuming she's dead set on moving against us."

She stamped her hand on the desk, startling Joe. Then she resumed her massage, and he settled back down.

"Two-hundred million dollars isn't good enough for her? And what, that's not enough for the son, either? We were willing to share."

"I don't think it's a question of not having enough money. They're both living comfortably already. It's a matter of principle. I'm going to be honest - I think we're in some serious shit, and it scares me."

She swivelled his chair in place and pulled part of her red dress down. Her bra, now visible, strained to cover what was underneath.

"I know this is so hard. But why don't I give you something to take your mind off all that?" she said, rubbing her left breast in a circular pattern. "I think that's just what you need."

She leaned forwards and unclasped her bra. It fell to the floor, and at the exact same moment, she hit him with it. Only a small dose, but it was enough. His eyes went wide, his pupils dilated slightly and all the muscles in his face relaxed. A fleck of drool fell out of the ageing lawyer's mouth. She played with her breasts, and his eyes followed them wherever they moved. She knew he was dreaming about her tits every night. She'd made sure of it.

"You love me, don't you darling?"

"Yes... love you so much..."

"And you know I love you too, don't you?"

"Uhuh..."

All the guilt and stress was gone from his face. Only a sleepy, happy half-smile remained.

"That's so wonderful, darling. You're doing well. You love my tits, don't you? You love watching them. Watch them go up and down. Watch them go round, and around, and around. Look deeper, Gaze deeper and deeper. Your whole world is nothing but my perfect, juicy tits."

His head moved along with her motions to keep her thrall's eyes where exactly where she wanted them.

"You did something very difficult today, pet. But it was necessary. You know it was necessary, don't you?"

"Necessary..."

She was turning herself on as she continued to play and move them in patterns. It wasn't the friction, it was the control.

"I'm no more happy than you are. I don't want to hurt the family. It was my family, too. They both meant so much to us. Arthur meant so much to us. But don't I deserve what I'm owed? Isn't it unfair that this tragedy was going to leave me destitute?"

"Yeah... unfair..."

"But now you're here to help me. To make sure I'm safe, and protected, and looked after. It makes me so happy. Don't you like to make me safe, and happy?"

His half smile turned into a three quarters smile.

"Yes..."

"There's something else you could do to make me happy. Wouldn't that be so nice? Don't you want to know what it is?"

He nodded, jaw still hanging slightly open. He tried to mumble something but he was too busy trying to take in every single detail of what was in front of him to fully respond.

"Let's play that little game again. Do you remember the one I'm talking about?"

He nodded again. She looked down and saw that his pants had formed a tent. They'd probably been like that the whole time.

"And I know it's hard to think, but I want you to tell me, tell me what game it is."

He closed his mouth and swallowed. He looked like he was straining to gather all of his mental energy.

"It's the one where... the one where you're just..."

"Say it. What am I? What is that you called me when you saw me that day at the funeral?"

"You're... You're just a gold digger."

She smiled.

"That's right, I'm just a cruel, heartless gold digger. I didn't really love Arthur. And I don't really love you. But he couldn't help himself. You can't help yourself either, can you?"

"No. Can't help myself. Need you so badly."

"It's such a silly game, isn't it? Because you know that our love is so real, so genuine, don't you?"

"Yeah... it's a silly game..."

"But it can be so fun to play pretend for a little while. Especially when you know it makes me so pleased. And it turns you on so much, doesn't it darling?"

He nodded vigorously.

She hopped up onto the desk and spread her legs wide open. She wasn't wearing anything underneath her dress.

"Have you been a good boy, Joseph?" she said, her tone shifting from sweet to demanding halfway through the sentence.

"Yes," he said.

"I'll be the judge of that. Get your cock out."

His hands stumbled around but managed to unzip his pants and fish it out after only a short delay.