The assets

Helena’s P.O.V

“Step aside!” I demanded, and it took his personal assistant a few minutes before she dropped her hands and stepped to the side. 

I reached for the doorknob and pulled it open. 

It was then that I understood why his personal assistant was stopping. It was quite an irritating sight; my lawyer was on his knees while his mistress sat with her unbuttoned shirt, holding onto his tie. “The fuck is going on?” I asked, to stop the craziness. 

Their heads shot in my direction, then they separated. Hands reached for shirts and trousers, buttoning and zipping. The mistress stood up and buttoned her shirt. She walked past me with her head lowered. “Miss Graves,” she greeted me before she got to the front door. 

I walked forward, then grabbed a chair and took a seat while I waited for my lawyer to collect himself. He groaned to clear his throat as he took a seat. “Miss Graves, I didn't know you'd be coming around,” he pointed out the obvious. 

“I didn't tell you, now did I?” I questioned.

He cleared his throat again. “No, you didn't”. 

“Now, this may come as a shock to you, but I want to see all my inheritance documents. Everything, from the original will to the ownership records for the estate and the other properties she left behind.” I explained. 

“Wow”. 

I went on. “I want the details of the trust fund, the shares, the financial assets, and any other investments or valuables registered in my name. I want a complete account of what I inherited, what I currently own, and how those assets are being managed.” 

He just stared. 

“I don't want summaries or verbal assurances,” I warned. “I want to go through the actual documents myself, including any agreements, legal arrangements, or outstanding obligations attached to the inheritance. Is that something you can arrange for me?”

He let out a short laugh. “Why the sudden change of mind? I thought we all agreed to let your fiancé control the assets”.

“Well, I've changed my mind”. 

“Are you sure, ma'am? Because from our last meetings I am sure that you wanted nothing to do with your family inheritance. Don't you think you should call your fiancé before making such a big decision?” 

My mouth dropped. “Repeat yourself”. 

The lawyer paused for a moment, weighing his options before he spoke. “Wouldn't you like to call your fiancé?” 

“I do not recall giving you permission to tell me what I could or could not do with my properties,” I said. “Or did I hit my head and forget the conversation? I also do not recall the assets being his or signing them over to him, so why would I need his input?” 

“But you—”

“You need to do your job, or I would teach you how to do it. I do not recall your job being licking floors and getting a mistress. Would you love that information being available to the public and them making decisions on your behalf since you like doing the same for others?” 

“N-n-no ma’am, that was wrong of me. I-I’m sorry, I-I would—” he tripped over his words, and it made me laugh. 

He paused and stared at me. 

“Now, listen to me carefully: I am cutting off any access my ex has to any of my assets”. 

“Y-yes ma’am”. 

“Back to my properties, I want to see my parents' surviving property with my own eyes, so schedule a meeting with the estate manager and provide every document you have on it, along with the documents of all my assets. Oh, and the company.”

“That would not be easy, but it is doable. I will start arranging them immediately”. 

“I need it within three days”. 

“That is definitely doable. I would schedule the meeting, and we would meet at the property to examine the documents. Kill two birds with one stone”. 

“I’m glad we're both on the same page”. 

He held out a hand for a handshake. 

“You haven't earned that privilege.” I pushed to my feet, turned and walked off. 

I returned to the car. Immediately, the driver saw me; he pulled himself out of the car. He pulled the door to the backseat open, and I climbed in. “Back to the cake shop”. 

“Yes, ma'am”. 

He got in and started the car. 

I had to know everything I could about what I had to do to get through the apocalypse. First, I would need a sanctuary, so that's where the property comes in. 

It didn't take too long before we got to the cake shop. I sat in the car and took in a few breaths before I climbed out.

The large cake sign greeted me as I walked towards the door. I reached for the knob, gripped it and pulled it open. I walked into the store and looked around to see half-eaten cake samples on tables. I guess they had already gotten the cake testing done without me. I didn't mind, but why was everything looking depressing? 

The groomsmen huddled with tense postures in front of someone. The bridesmaids were around the person as well, and I guessed it to be Lilith. 

But why? 

Theron stood not too far from the door with confusion on his face and his hands inside his pockets.

What was going on? 

“Is everything okay?” I questioned. 

The groomsmen stepped aside first, then the bridesmaid gave way for Lilith to be in view. Lilith looked different, but not in a good way. Right above the collar of Lilith’s shirt, a cluster of bright red pimples and angry bumps had suddenly broken out. They looked like a sudden, fiery necklace tracing across her skin. It hadn't been there when I had left. 

What had actually happened? 

No one looked happy, but not just that. They didn't seem happy that I had just walked through the door. 

“You. It's you,” one of the bridesmaids I remember was called Kayla announced. She held Lilith’s arm, but now her attention was more on me than it was on Lilith. 

“It's okay,” Lilith said in a croaky voice. 

“No, it's not. Someone needs to stop her," Kayla replied. “She tried to kill you right before your wedding”

With that, she pulled away from Lilith, then walked towards me. I stood my ground, but the most unexpected thing happened. Her hand smacked against my cheek with force, knocking my head to the side.