Chapter Two

Isabella’s POV

The funeral was exactly what I expected and nothing that I wanted.

It was large and filled with people who had perfected the art of looking sad while thinking about how to end their enemy.

Black cars lined the driveway of the estate and security stood at every corner while politicians, investors, board members, and distant relatives stepped out in tailored grief and expensive sunglasses. 

Every handshake lasted half a second too long and every hug felt rehearsed.

I stood near the front beside the casket, dressed in black from head to toe. My hair pulled back, my face calm. 

I had practiced that face since I was ten years old and it never failed me.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” one senator said as he squeezed my hand.

“Thank you for coming,” I replied.

Your presence will be remembered when votes are needed, I thought, but I did not say it.

A woman from one of our partner firms leaned closer and whispered, “Your grandfather always spoke highly of you.”

I nodded, remembering how she sabotaged my business deal with X, a multi-billion dollar tech company. “I can't say the same about you.”

She straightened immediately and stepped away.

The line continued for what felt like hours and I heard the same phrases repeated with slight variations. 

He was a great man. A visionary. A pillar. A legend. 

No one mentioned that he had been stubborn and demanding and impossible when he needed to be, and no one mentioned that half of them had tried to undermine him at least once.

When it was time for the speeches, I took my seat in the front row and folded my hands in my lap.

Uncle Daniel approached the podium slowly, his shoulders slightly hunched, his expression carefully measured. He wore a black suit, which fit him too well, like he had been waiting for this day.

He cleared his throat.

“My father was not just a titan of industry,” he began, his voice thick with practiced emotion, “he was the backbone of this family and the foundation of everything we built.”

I kept my eyes on him.

There were pauses in the right places and he lowered his head at the appropriate moments.

Then he looked up.

For a second, just one second, his eyes shifted and I saw it.

A slight smile. Not one of reminisce but one that could only come from winning a contest.

It was small, almost invisible, but I knew Daniel. I had grown up watching him attempt to impress my grandfather and fail. 

I had watched him sit at the far end of the table during board meetings, pretending to be patient while fumbling every opportunity ever given to him.

“And now,” he continued, “we must stand together as one family to ensure that my father’s life work remains protected.”

My jaw tightened.

When he stepped away from the podium, the applause was loud and brief. Irolled my eyes in irritation.  This was not some concert.

I scanned the crowd as the next speaker walked up and that was when I felt it.

The sensation was subtle, like eyes were fixed on the back of my neck.

I shifted slightly and looked over my shoulder.

At first, I saw nothing but black suits and dark dresses and bowed heads.

Then I caught sight of someone moving toward the edge of the gathering.

Tall man in black coat.

I could only see his back.

Broad shoulders moving with deliberate steps and no hesitation.

He did not turn around.

He walked away from the crowd before I could get a clear look at his face.

Something about the way he moved felt intentional, like he had come for a reason 

“Are you alright?” Fred asked quietly beside me.

“I’m fine,” I said, though I was not sure if that was true.

More speeches followed and more praise was given and when it was finally time for the burial, I stood at the edge of the grave and watched as they lowered him into the ground.

The finality of it settled heavily in my chest.

This was the last time I would ever see him.

A hand touched my arm.

Daniel.

“We will get through this together,” he said softly.

I met his gaze. “Of course.”

He held my eyes a moment longer than necessary and then stepped back.

Liam was not there.

That fact bothered me more than I expected.

Daniel’s only son and he had not shown up for his grandfather’s funeral.

I leaned toward Fred. “Have you seen Liam today?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Interesting.

After the burial, the immediate family gathered inside the estate for the will reading.

The air inside the sitting room felt heavier than it had during the funeral. Grief was now replaced with anticipation.

I could literally see them drooling while patiently waiting for whatever scraps there were getting.

Daniel sat across from me, his fingers laced together. His posture relaxed, probably the most relaxed I've ever seen him.

Two of my distant cousins whispered to each other near the fireplace and stopped when I looked their way.

The lawyer, Mr. Hastings, opened his briefcase slowly and removed a thick folder.

“Thank you all for coming,” he said as he adjusted his glasses. “We will proceed with the reading of Mr. Kingston’s last will and testament.”

Silence settled over the room.

He began with smaller allocations, donations to charities, trusts set aside for extended family members, specific assets assigned to various foundations.

I listened but I also watched.

Daniel’s expression remained steady though his jaw flexed each time a portion of the estate went somewhere other than him.

Then Mr. Hastings cleared his throat.

“As for the majority shares of Kingston Group,” he continued, “Mr. Kingston has named his granddaughter, Isabella Kingston, as Chairwoman and primary controlling shareholder, effective immediately upon the conclusion of this reading.”

The words landed like a pin drop in an empty room.

For a second, no one reacted.

Then the room erupted.

“That is impossible,” one cousin snapped.

Daniel did not speak at first.

He stared at the lawyer.

“Read that again,” he said finally.

Mr. Hastings adjusted his glasses once more. “Isabella Kingston is hereby appointed Chairwoman of Kingston Group and receives controlling interest in the company.”

Daniel’s hands dropped to his knees.

“That is not correct,” he said, his voice sharper now. “I am his only son.”

“Yes,” the lawyer replied evenly, “however your father made his intentions very clear.”

“And more than half of Mr. Kingston’s personal fortune,” Mr. Hastings continued, “including liquid assets and property holdings, has also been transferred to Isabella Kingston.”

The outrage intensified.

“This is absurd,” my aunt muttered.

“He was probably not in his right mind,” someone else said.

I remained seated.

I was too shocked to react.

Daniel finally turned to me.

“You knew about this, you bitch,” he said. I know you've always looked down on me.”

I met his gaze. “No.”

His eyes searched my face, looking for any sign of deception.

“You expect us to believe that he simply handed everything to you,” he pressed.

“I expect you to believe that he made his own decisions,” I replied.

Daniel stood abruptly and began pacing.

“This company was built for me,” he said. “I worked beside him for years.”

“You worked under him,” I corrected calmly.

His head snapped toward me.

“I am his son.”

The room went quiet again.

Mr. Hastings continued reading through the remaining clauses while tension coiled tighter with every word.

When he finished, he closed the folder and looked directly at me.

“Congratulations, Ms. Kingston.”

Congratulations.

The word felt misplaced in a room full of anger.

Daniel stopped pacing and faced the lawyer.

“I will not accept this without review,” he said.

“That is your right,” Mr. Hastings replied.

Daniel turned back to me.

“This is not over.”

“I never thought it was,” I answered.

For a moment, I thought I saw movement outside near the gates, a tall figure standing near a black car.

Before I could focus on the face behind the wheel, the car zoomed off.