His Grandmother’s Will Forces Them Together for One Year. The Billionaire Heir Wants Forever Instead
The Inheritance and the Arrangement
The lawyer’s voice droned on about codicils and clauses, but Helina Vance couldn’t focus on anything except the absurdity of sitting in this mahogany-paneled office next to a man she’d never met, learning that a dead woman had just chained them together for an entire year.
She twisted the strap of her purse between her fingers, stealing a glance at the stranger beside her.
He sat perfectly still in his charcoal suit, jaw tight, staring at the attorney like he could incinerate the words coming out of his mouth through sheer willpower alone.
Everything about him screamed money and control, from his platinum watch to the way he held himself like he owned every room he entered, which Helina suspected he probably did.
“To summarize,” the attorney said, peering over his glasses, “Mrs. Alener Kensington’s will stipulates that her grandson, Fletcher Kensington, will inherit the family estate and controlling interest in Kensington Industries only if he resides at Willowbrook Manor for one full year.”
“Additionally, Miss Helina Vance, as the primary beneficiary of Mrs. Kensington’s personal effects and trust fund, must also reside at the property for the same duration.”
“Should either party fail to meet these conditions, the entire estate will be liquidated and donated to charity.”
Helina’s stomach dropped.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Fletcher spoke for the first time, his voice low and dangerous.
“This is insane. My grandmother was in her right mind when she wrote this?”
“Completely sound, Mr. Kensington. I advised against such unusual terms, but Alener was quite insistent. She believed this arrangement would benefit you both.”
The attorney shuffled his papers.
“The year begins immediately. You have 48 hours to take up residence.”
Helina’s mind raced. She’d met Alener Kensington exactly three times.
The elderly woman had been a regular at the botanical garden where Helina worked as a horticulturist, and they’d bonded over a shared love of heritage roses.
Alener had been kind, funny, surprisingly sharp for her 86 years.
But this—living with her grandson for a year—it made no sense.
“I have a life,” Helina said. “I have an apartment, a job.”
“Mrs. Kensington arranged for a leave of absence from the botanical gardens with full salary continuation,” the attorney replied. “She was quite thorough.”
Fletcher stood abruptly, the movement sharp enough to make Helina flinch.
“Give us a moment.”
It wasn’t a request. He walked out of the office without looking back.
Helina sat frozen for a heartbeat before scrambling after him.
She found him in the building’s lobby, one hand braced against the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the Manhattan skyline.
“Look,” she said. “I don’t understand this any more than you do. Your grandmother and I were friendly, but I never expected anything from her. Certainly not this.”
He turned to face her, and she got her first real look at him.
Late twenties, maybe thirty at most, dark hair pushed back from a face that was all sharp angles and intensity.
Gray eyes that seemed to catalog everything about her in three seconds flat.
He was handsome in that distant, untouchable way of men who never heard the word “no.”
“How much do you want?” he asked.
Helina blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“To walk away. Name your price. I’ll write you a check right now.”
Heat flooded her cheeks.
“You think I’m running some kind of con?”
“I think my grandmother had a soft spot for strays, and you happened to be in the right place at the right time. So, how much?”
The dismissiveness in his tone ignited something sharp in her chest.
“I don’t want your money, Mr. Kensington. Actually, you know what? I don’t want any of this. Tell the lawyer I’m out.”
She turned on her heel and made it three steps before his voice stopped her.
“Wait.”
She didn’t turn around.
“Why? So you can insult me some more?”
A long pause.
“Then if you walk away, I lose everything my family built over four generations. The company, the property, all of it, gone.”
Helina looked back over her shoulder. Something had shifted in his expression.
A crack in that impenetrable facade. Not quite vulnerability, but close enough to make her hesitate.
“My grandmother had her reasons for everything she did,” he continued. “I might not understand them, but I respected her. This was her final wish.”
“And you think what? We just move into some mansion together like roommates for an entire year?”
“Willowbrook Manor has 15 bedrooms. I think we can manage to stay out of each other’s way.”
He stepped closer, hands in his pockets.
“I’m not asking you to like me. I’m asking you to honor an old woman’s last request, and in return, you’ll be financially secure for the rest of your life.”
Helina studied him. There was something wounded beneath all that polish, a rawness he was working hard to conceal.
She thought about Alener, the way the old woman’s eyes had sparkled when she talked about her garden, about beauty and growth and second chances.
“I loved your grandmother,” Helina said quietly. “She was kind to me when I needed it, so I’ll do this. Not for the money. For her.”
Fletcher’s shoulders dropped an inch, tension releasing.
“Thank you.”
“But let’s get something straight right now: I’m not a stray. I’m not a charity case.”
“I worked my way through college. I have a doctorate in botanical sciences and I’ve published research in three academic journals.”
“Your grandmother and I were friends. Real friends. Whatever she was trying to accomplish with this arrangement, I’m going to trust that she had good reasons.”
Something that might have been respect flickered across his face.
“Noted, Dr. Vance.”
