The Reading of the Will
The Quiet Partner

Grounds to Contest

August 25, 2026 · Part 7 of 10 · 2 min

The words landed like a slap, and for a second nobody in the room moved.

"Say that again," Elias said, very quietly.

Holden had the grace to look briefly uncertain, but only briefly. "You know what I mean. Diminished capacity, undue influence — juries respond to sympathy, Elias, and I'll use whatever argument wins."

"You'd stand up in a courtroom," Callum said, stepping forward, "and tell twelve strangers your brother's disabled body makes him too stupid to run a business he's been quietly running for two years?"

"I'd tell them our father was dying and vulnerable and someone took advantage of that."

"Nobody took advantage of anyone," Elias said. "He came to me. Read the letter, Holden, if you can stomach it."

Holden didn't take the letter. He didn't want proof; he wanted a story he could survive telling himself. He left the way he'd arrived, loud and fast, the door banging shut behind him with a finality that felt less like an ending and more like a warning.

Elias didn't hear from Odette for four days. He assumed she'd sided with Holden, or was simply waiting to see which way the wind blew before committing to a side that might cost her something.

She showed up instead at his apartment on a Thursday night, alone, no makeup, looking less like the polished real estate broker from the funeral and more like someone who hadn't slept.

"I have emails," she said, before he'd even fully opened the door. "From Dad. Going back almost two years. He mentions you in ways that—" she exhaled. "They'd help. In court, if it comes to that. They basically prove intent."

"So give them to Farida."

"I will." She hesitated in the doorway, arms crossed against the night air. "But I want something too, Elias. I'm not going to pretend I don't. I've spent eighteen years building the real estate arm of this family's business, and I'm not interested in being a bystander while you and Holden fight over the rest of it. I want a seat. Not out of pity. Out of what I've earned."

Elias studied her for a long moment — the same sister who'd rolled her eyes at Holden over sandwiches, who'd never once, in his memory, mocked him the way Holden sometimes forgot not to.

"Send me the emails first," he said. "Then we'll talk about seats."

Odette's jaw tightened, but she nodded, turned to leave — and stopped on the landing outside his door.

"There's something else in those emails," she said, not quite looking at him. "Something about Holden. You're not going to like it."

Continue the story Part 8: What the Emails Said →

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