7

Veronica

Inside the envelope Stefan had given me were three sheets of paper, pieces taken from a larger document. When I'd asked him what it was, he'd said one word—truth. But it couldn't be that. There was no way. Grandfather wasn't that hateful. No matter what, we were his family, his only remaining family.

The night I'd first met my grandfather as a child had also been the night we'd celebrated my mother's twenty-first birthday. The timing of his visit made perfect sense, now that I knew the details of my own inheritance. For as all-powerful as I'd always believed my grandfather to be, this one thing he could not control. At least not wholly. Because on my mother's twenty-first birthday, she received majority control of Kingston Winery. My grandfather was merely given an allowance that she dictated.

One thing I hadn't known was that my grandfather had taken my grandmother's last name. She was Veronica Kingston, my namesake. He had never been head of the family. Not really. Even if