Chapter 2
"Ethan," Charlotte said as she stood up, towering over the man still seated in his chair, "I don't want that 3 million."
Ethan frowned. "What do you mean?"
Charlotte pulled another document from her bag and slapped it on the table.
She said, "Here's the thing. this is a record of everything I've done for you these past three years: what meds you take, what your stomach can't handle, your allergies, what clothes you need when the seasons change.
"I put it all together for whoever comes after me.
"And," she paused, "I haven't spent a single cent of your money in these three years. I paid for my dad's medical bills with money I earned working.
"All the bills at home? I paid them with what I made from designing. Save that 3 million and buy yourself a coffin."
Ethan's face darkened instantly, "Charlotte!"
"Oh, and one more thing," Charlotte said, as if remembering, pulling the keys from her bag and tossing them onto the table in front of him. "Here are the keys to the villa. I don't want anything inside. Handle it however you want."
She turned and walked away, her high heels clicking sharply on the marble floor.
One step, two steps, three steps.
"Charlotte!" Ethan's voice rang out behind her, laced with anger. "If you walk out that door, don't even think about coming back!"
Charlotte didn't even turn around. She flipped him off.
"Don't worry, Mr. Sinclair," Her voice floated back on the wind, carrying a freedom she hadn't felt in three years, "May you be sterile, but forever haunted by a house full of kids."
As Charlotte stepped out of the city hall, the sun was warm and gentle.
She took a deep breath, feeling like even the air was sweet.
After three years, she no longer had to wake up at five in the morning to make breakfast for Ethan, keep track of all his likes and dislikes,
And she no longer had to stay up late waiting for him to come home, or watch him get all cozy with Isabelle and pretend not to care.
She was finally free.
Just then, her phone buzzed.
Charlotte glanced at the screen. It was an unknown number, and the caller ID showed it was from Swissera.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Is this Miss Charlotte Sterling?" An aged yet commanding voice spoke fluent Anglish on the other end. "I'm William Hohenzollern, your maternal grandfather."
Charlotte was stunned, her mind blank for a moment.
Grandfather? But wasn't my mom an orphan?' Charlotte blinked in disbelief.
"I know this must be a shock." William's voice trembled slightly. "But your mother, also my daughter, Elena, ran away from home twenty years ago. We never stopped looking for her.
"It was only last week that we learned she passed away eighteen years ago, and you're her only child."
"Miss Sterling," William's voice grew solemn, "the Hohenzollern Dynasty needs an heir. Everything your mother once gave up is now yours to claim."
Charlotte started to say something, but before she could get a word out, her phone chimed with a text.
A bank alert popped up: [Your account ending in 8888 just received a deposit...]
There were so many zeros, she lost track trying to count them all.
"This is just the annual dividend from the family trust," William said with a warm chuckle. "It's not much, just some pocket money for you. Once you return to Swissera and officially inherit the family legacy, the entire Hohenzollern Conglomerate will be yours.
"Oh, by the way," he added, as if something had come to mind, "how much was it again? Let me take a look. Oh, converted to dollars, it's about 430 billion?"
Charlotte stood at the entrance of the city hall, gripping her divorce certificate, her mind reeling as if the ground had vanished beneath her feet.
She recieved 430 billion.
Just moments ago, she'd felt insulted by 3 measly million, as if it were a handout.
Now, she was the heiress to a trillion-dollar empire.