No Freya; no inheritance

Chapter 12

Michael's POV

I quickly dialed Jason's number, my mind racing with concern. "Jason, it's Freya. We got into a fight, and she just left Grandpa's home. She's heading to the hospital where her mom stays. Keep an eye on her," I said, ending the call abruptly after hearing Jason's reassuring response.

I paced around the room, feeling restless and anxious. Finally, I collapsed onto the bed, feeling lifeless and defeated. The weight of my mistakes crushed me. I shouldn't have kissed Emma, no matter how I felt about her. Regret washed over me, and I couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt.

Lost in thought, I didn't notice the two gentle knocks on my door.

"Michael, are you in there?" Grandpa called out, sounding worried.

I took a deep breath and replied, "Grandpa."

He entered the room, looking around as if searching for someone. His cane supported him as he walked.

"Come to my room," he said gently but firmly.I followed him, thinking of excuses for Freya's absence. In his room, Grandpa looked at me with a piercing gaze.

"Where's your wife?" he asked, his tone firm but concerned.

I hesitated, unsure of what to say.

"Oh, she...she stepped out," I stammered.

Grandpa's expression turned serious. "Michael, I don't feel comfortable with Emma here. You're a married man, and you're not making it clear to her that you have a wife. I wouldn't want you to hurt that woman; she doesn't deserve it."

I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. "But...I thought you invited Emma, besides..."

Grandpa's expression turned serious. "I didn't invite Emma. I only invited family, and Emma isn't family. She stopped being family a long time ago."

His words cut deep, like a knife to my heart. "I don't care what scheme you're planning," he continued. "You must save this marriage. If you don't, your stepbrother will get the legal inheritance, regardless of his legitimacy."

I felt torn and confused. On one hand, I didn't want Emma to leave; I'd been thinking only of her. On the other hand, I couldn't bear the thought of Ambrose getting his hands on the inheritance.

"Grandpa..." I began, but he cut me off.

"I saw your wife walking briskly away from the mansion," he said, his eyes narrowing. "I don't want to know the reason, but the sooner you start pleasing that woman, the better for you. She's a good woman, and I hope you know what you're doing."

His words struck a chord, and guilt washed over me instantly. What if he finds out that our entire marriage was a scheme for the inheritance? The thought sent a chill down my spine.

"Go bring your wife back, Michael," Grandpa ordered, his voice firm.

I froze, my eyes widening in shock. "Grandpa...she'll be fine," I whispered, closing my eyes in desperation.

Chasing after Freya was the last thing I wanted to do. I wouldn't want her having the wrong impression. Besides,I couldn't bear the thought of facing her, not after sharing a kiss with Emma. The guilt and shame were already eating me up.

Why do I suddenly feel so guilty? I thought to myself.

"I'm capable of taking everything from you and giving it to..." Grandpa started.

"Why would you do that?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "Ambrose already inherited Jenkins Enterprise without any conditions. Why do I need to meet a condition to get my birthright?" I asked through gritted teeth.

I was shocked by the sudden requirement. At 29, I saw no reason why I should be forced to get married to claim my inheritance.

Grandpa's response was simple yet firm; "You aren't Ambrose. You need to get married. Besides, he has a child already"

"But I'm married, can't I have the inheritance now?" I asked, my hands drumming against my thighs out of habit.

Grandpa's response caught me off guard. "And then you'll divorce her after getting it? No one is stupid here, Michael. Getting married to that woman means forever."

My jaw dropped in shock. It sounded like Grandpa was aware of my fake marriage to Freya. I couldn't help but wonder what other demands he might make. What if he asked me to have a child with Freya? Jason might be right.

"Grandpa...I don't know if I can do this," I said, my defenses crumbling. There was no need to hide the truth; he probably knew about it. "Yes, Freya's a good woman, but you know I didn't marry her for love. She's a stranger to me. You can't expect me to just...pretend."

Grandpa's expression remained resolute. "I've spoken, Michael. Sort it out yourself. No divorce, no harsh treatment. No Freya; no inheritance. I don't care if you faked the marriage. Figure out a way to make it work, even if it means professing fake feelings to her. Just one thing; you won't make her cry."

"She doesn't love me, Grandpa," I said, my voice laced with frustration. "You can't force a woman to be with me just because you want me to get married. She might already have someone in her life."

Grandpa chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "What kind of man would give up his woman for another man's wealth? Besides, there's no harm in taking her away from him."

I was outraged. "What! Grandpa, this isn't like you. Why on earth would you want me to be with a woman like Freya? Besides, I don't love her. She's short, skinny; she's not even my type. And she's not blonde!" I exclaimed, my anger boiling over.

Grandpa smiled, seemingly unmoved by my outburst.

"When I see a good woman, I recognize her," Grandpa said firmly.

I took a deep breath, trying to process his words. "You don't even know her, Grandpa. I found her on my way to your Warehouse, begging her creditors. I paid off her debts, and that's how I met her. How could you possibly know she's a good woman?"

Grandpa didn't show any emotions, "No divorce, son. If I were you, I'd hurry up and get your wife back before I change my mind. Don't forget the worth of that inheritance."

"You said marriage not less than six months. How can you say no divorce?" I asked, as my eyes were filled with pain. But he didn't say a word.

He tapped his cane repeatedly, signaling that the conversation was over. I left his room, confusion etched on my face.

I needed to protect my inheritance from Ambrose. Grandpa had found out about our scheme, and now he was forcing me to stick with Freya. Ambrose must never discover the truth about my fake marriage.

As I stood there, lost in thought, I heard the click of heels approaching. I opened my eyes to see Emma walking towards me, her eyes fixed intently on mine.

"Michael," she called out softly.

I turned and walked away, not saying a word. I shouldn't have kissed her, at least not yet. Right now, Grandpa would do anything to ensure I followed his wishes. He couldn't see me with Emma.

"Emma, you have to leave," I said firmly, trying to sound detached. "I'm married."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "I saw your wife leaving. She doesn't even love you. How could she leave you alone? She didn't even respect Grandpa's presence. That's wrong of her." she spat.

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "She..."

"That's because their marriage is fake. How many times do I need to spell it out for you, Emma?" Ambrose cut in, cutting my conversation short.

"What do you mean? Is it possible, a fake marriage at a time like this?" I asked, trying not to let my guard down as he smiled triumphantly.

"I have all the evidence in here," he said, raising his hand to reveal what seemed like a bug recorder.

"Ambrose, you might do anything, but you can never tear Freya and me apart. There's no inheritance for you," I snapped, refusing to be made a fool.

"Don't you love Emma anymore? And this woman who claims to be your wife, do you even know anything about her past?" He said as I began to put the picture together. "That's more reason to conclude that you're both strangers. Michael, I can kill for this. No one will stop me, not even Grandpa." Ambrose threatened as I narrowed my eyes. I just realized something.