Chapter 46 The Will of a Dead Man

Chapter 46 The Will of a Dead Man
Jasmine:

The rain poured down with the ground soaking it up. At the graveside, a crowd of people stood under black umbrellas, with their faces somber and silent. They were all dressed in black, trying to look calm and collected, but it was clear that grief was affecting everyone of them differently. 

The coffin was being lowered into the ground, and the atmosphere was heavy with sadness. The sound of the raindrops hitting the umbrellas and the ground was the only sound that broke the silence, a reminder that even in death, life goes on.

I stood at the front, still, watching as the last piece of the only man who had ever mattered in this house disappeared beneath the soil.

Regardless of what I had gone through before, regardless of what how my relationship was with my father or how I thought that he would never care about me because I wasn’t the son he wanted, regardless of how many years I went without being noticed by my dad for that very reason, I knew that my father loved me even when he never said it or said it the way I wanted him to say it. I was his last remaining link to the woman he had loved, and in my father's eyes, I was all he needed.

And now he was gone.

I held the handle of my umbrella with gripping fingers, as I boiled with anger hidden from everyone. This didn’t feel like an accident. This didn’t feel like fate. It felt orchestrated. It felt like him indeed.

Nikolai.

The thought made my jaw tighten. He had the power, the reach, and the motive. And I hated that a part of me didn’t want to believe it, even when the note was there, and even now that my father was being buried.

“Elena.”

Dante’s voice came low beside me, steady, and grounding. I hadn’t even realised when he stepped closer.

“You need to breathe,” he murmured.

“I am breathing,” I replied, though it came out tighter than I intended.

His gaze lingered on me for a moment, like he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t press further. He simply stayed silently at my side as the priest finished speaking.

Then came the moment I had been dreading, the look of expectancy from the crowd as it was my turn to give a speech.

I walked up to speak, the rain catching the edges of my hair as I lowered the umbrella slightly. My heels sank just a bit into the wet ground, but I held my posture, lifting my chin as I faced the crowd. Family, associates, men who had once answered to my father. Now watching me speak about a man I hadn’t seen for years.

I let my gaze move over them slowly before I spoke.

“My father was not an easy man to understand,” I began, my voice steady despite the anger I had inside me. “He believed in strength above all else. In loyalty, in control.”

A few heads nodded.

“That came at a cost,” I continued. “To himself, and to those around him.”

I paused briefly, letting the words settle before continuing.

“But he built something powerful. Something that cannot be undone by his absence.”

My voice hardened slightly.

“And his death will not go unanswered.”

Everyone looked at me with fear.

“This family,” I said, “this empire… will not fall into chaos. It will not be weakened. And it will not be disrespected.”

My gaze sharpened.

“The person responsible will be found. And they will pay.”

The message was clear. This wasn’t about grief, nor vulnerability. This was about power, and Nikolai was about to feel real power. 

And so, I stepped back. My speech had ended, but the war had only just begun.

After the funeral, we went back to the estate. The Vorn family gathered in the main hall, all tensed—the time had come.

Our family lawyer stood near the head of the room, with a thick folder in his hands. His expression was neutral, practiced, but even he couldn’t completely hide the weight of what he was about to read.

Dante stood slightly behind me, not part of the family circle, but close enough to intervene if necessary. I could feel his attention, sharp and alert. Good, because I didn’t trust anyone else in this room.

“Shall we begin?” the lawyer asked.

Pietro gave a short nod. Valentina dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, though her gaze was far too focused for someone consumed by grief.

“Very well,” the lawyer said, opening the document.

The reading began, formally. Assets, holdings, properties. Everything was laid out with clinical detail, as if my father’s life could be reduced to numbers and ownership.

Then came the part that mattered. The inheritance, the control. The lawyer then do something that shocked us all. He stepped forward and handed the letter to read aloud.

“Don Vorn requested that his first child read it.” 

Confused, I took the letter and read aloud:

“The Vorn family operations are to be transferred in accordance with the following directive…”

My eyes couldn’t believe what they were reading.

“Elena Vorn is to assume full control and leadership of the family.”

There was complete and total silence, until Valentina erupted.

“What?” Valentina’s voice cut through, sharp, and disbelieving.

Pietro didn’t speak, but his stillness changed. That calm control cracked, just slightly.

“This has to be a mistake,” Valentina continued, her composure slipping. “Lucien would never—”

“It is not a mistake,” the lawyer interrupted firmly. “This document has been verified and signed.”

Her gaze snapped back to me, furious and disgusted.

“No,” she said under her breath. “No, this isn’t right.”

But I didn’t respond. I didn’t need to.

“There is one final item,” the lawyer added.

His eyes shifted to me.

“A personal letter.”

My chest tightened slightly.

“To be read aloud,” he continued, handing it to me.

I took it slowly, the paper feeling heavier than it should have. Then I unfolded it as everyone present watched.

I inhaled once, and began.

“If you are reading this, then I am already gone.”

My voice was steady, controlled even.

“But I know this will not be received well.”

A faint shift in the room.

“You were never the son I was expected to have. But you proved to be better than any son I would’ve had.”

That immediately struck Pietro as an insult. 

“You were the one who learned without being taught. Who observed when others spoke. Who adapted when others resisted.”

My fingers tightened slightly around the paper.

“I did not give you what you deserved. Not because you were incapable, but because I chose not to see it.”

I paused, then continued.

“Pietro was raised to lead. But you were built to survive. And survival is what this family will need in my absence.”

I swallowed.

“You will take my place. Not because of blood alone. But because you will not break. If they challenge you, let them. If they doubt you, let them. But do not lose control.”

“Power is not given. It is taken. You are my daughter. And now… you are my successor.”

I lowered the paper slowly. No one spoke, no one moved.

Valentina looked like she might shatter. Pietro looked like he was calculating how not to. And Dante, Dante stepped just slightly closer behind me. Like he understood exactly what this moment meant.

I lifted my gaze, meeting theirs. One by one. 

“Congratulations, Godmother,” Dante whispered at my side. 

This was only the beginning, and these people weren’t prepared for what’s next.