I strode around the table and sank into one of the chairs, spinning it to face him. “A real one or someone who played one in a college improv group and he’s just using him to scare you?”
“A real one.” Alex swiped a folder up from the table, holding it out to me like it was either a ticking bomb or something foul, but either way, he didn’t want it anywhere near him. “Gregory claims the paperwork for the marriage between him and Charlotte was already signed.”
For a second, I just stared at him, then barked out a laugh so loud, it echoed off the very expensive conference table. “Right, and I’m the king of Denmark.”
Alex didn’t smile. “I’m just telling you what they’re saying. The bigger problem is that he already signed the prenup.”
My laughter died, smothered mid-breath. “A prenup? Charlotte didn’t sign any fucking prenup.”
“No, but Gregory did and so did my dad. Good old Greg is arguing that it gave him a legitimate expectation that they would be entering into a marriage.”
Part of me was waiting for him to smack his leg and say,Just kidding. But he didn’t. His expression remained bleak.
“What the hell did it stipulate?” I asked slowly.
Alex finally slid the folder over when I didn’t make any moves to take it from him. “The terms entitle Gregory to access the portion of the Westwood estate that would fall under Charlotte’s name once married.”
My stomach hit the floor with all the grace of a dropped bowling ball. “So, let me get this straight. A man Charlotte didn’t want, didn’t choose, and didn’t even like, is now claiming he has legal rights over her future inheritance because he signed something behind her back? Something she didn’t even know existed and sure as shit didn’t sign?”
“Pretty much.”
I let my head drop back. “Douglas let him sign that?”
“He produced it,” Alex ground out. “Our very own fucking lawyers drafted the goddamn thing.”
I jerked my head up. “Come again?”
“It was his idea,” he said. “Gregory signing a prenup that secured the estate within the family. He thought Charlotte would eventually comply and he went ahead under that assumption.”
Comply. I actually saw red blotches in my field of vision. There were a thousand ways to describe Charlotte Westwood, but compliant wasn’t even within shouting distance.
“That’s what Gregory wants to enforce now,” he continued. “He’s desperate, Trent. He wants the estate and this prenup, if challenged, could make things extremely messy.”
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling deeply and trying to blink away the red. “Okay, then what can be done? Charlotte is my wife. End of discussion.”
Alex’s mouth tightened into a hard line. “It’s possible she won’t see a cent of the inheritance if Gregory goes after Dad with all this paperwork. It’s a tangle of signatures, bad intentions, and legal loopholes.”
I felt something ugly and mean coil in my chest. “She doesn’t even want the money. Get me face to face with him. I’ll straighten it out.”
“That’s not going to happen. I’ve tried getting a meeting with him myself,” he said immediately. “He’s made it very clear that he’ll only meet with Dad.”
“That’s rich,” I muttered. “He’s trying to throw Charlotte under the bus, but only wants to negotiate with her father?”
“That’s how this family does things,” he replied, rubbing his temples. “Dad isn’t thrilled that she ran off and married you. I think Gregory is hoping that if he keeps appealing to Dad, he’ll insist that she divorces you and marry Gregory instead.”
“Yeah, maybe, but Douglas gave her the goddamn option,” I snapped. “He told her that she was getting married and that if she didn’t want to marry Greg, she should marry me.”
“He gave her the option, but he didn’t think she’d take it, man,” he said, blowing out a heavy breath.
“Well, maybe he shouldn’t underestimate his daughter next time.”
The room went quiet and I saw the worry under Alex’s irritation, his genuine concern for Charlotte. For years, he’d helped her navigate the ins and outs of their family. I didn’t doubt he wanted what was best for her, but this whole situation was a burning garbage fire built by people who thought money and control were the same thing as love.
I took a breath, trying to ease my aggravation about all this. “Look. I don’t care about the inheritance. I don’t care if Gregory sets that prenup on fire, or eats it, or has it framed above his bed. I have more than enough money for Charlotte.”
Alex’s shoulders sagged a little. “It’s not just about the money.”
I’d really thought we were just about done here, or at least done enough for coffee or a drink, but Alex didn’t move away from the table. He just stared at the folder again.
