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The attorney’s expression didn’t change. “I’m not in a position to speculate on motive. Only to execute her wishes.”

Something in his tone made her uneasy.

“Wishes?”

He opened the folder and turned a page. “The bequest is conditional.”

Of course it was.

“In what way?”

“You are required to assume full responsibility for Ms. Harmon’s three dogs.”

Felicity blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.” A slight pause. “The will stipulates that if you decline to take custody of the animals, the inheritance is to be revoked.” He hesitated, just briefly. “The animals are not to be rehomed.”

A cold knot formed in her stomach. “Meaning?”

His gaze held hers. “Meaning they are to be euthanized.”

Felicity stared at him. “You’re fucking with me.” There was no politeness left in her.

“I understand this is … difficult,” he said carefully. “But Ms. Harmon was very clear. She did not want her dogs placed in a shelter or separated or passed between owners. She preferred certainty.”

“Certainty,” Felicity echoed, disbelief sharpening the word.

The attorney inclined his head. “You may accept the terms of the will … or decline the inheritance.”

Her jaw tightened.

Three small dogs. A house. A life she didn’t want.

And a dead woman who had somehow reached beyond the grave and put it all in her hands.

“Ownership of the property will transfer through probate, but you’ll have immediate access. You may reside there and maintain the house in the interim.”

Felicity let out a short, disbelieving breath.

She didn’t want a house. Or dogs.

She leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing. “And if I refuse…?”

A brief, telling pause followed.

“Then you decline the inheritance,” he said. “And the instructions regarding the animals will be carried out.”

Her stomach turned.

Chyort voz’mi. Damm it. She scrubbed a hand over her face. “She really thought this through, didn’t she?”

The attorney didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

*

Ronan could not remember when last he had been this angry. Maybe at Violet’s funeral, when the earth swallowed her casket, the initial shock and sorrow gone, leaving only the bitter sting of betrayal. His jaw clenched as he swung the truck hard into the first available parking spot around the corner from Felicity’s apartment. The engine cut with a violent twist of the key.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, swearing under his breath.