The Fifty-Fifty Brother
Half of my inheritance.
All resting on this one chance encounter.
The terms of my father’s will had been specific.
I knew Dad had had a mistress. (I suspect he had had many.) But this one was different for some reason. This one gave him a son.
And now… This ridiculous hitch in his will.
I had been groomed to be the new CEO of Hilldenbury International. I would be, no matter how this foolishness played out.
But, if the worst happened…
If Bartholomew (my ill-conceived half-brother) was shown to have “a heart-of-kindness, like my beautiful Felicia” to quote my philandering father, Bartholomew was to receive half of the estate.
I would inherit the business; he would get the rest.
I had hired the best detective agency. My father’s attorney presented them with the scenario my licentious father had planned.
If Bartholomew offered assistance to this vagrant itinerant upon their meeting, then he was to be recognized as Mr. T.Y. Hilldenbury’s long-lost son.
If not, the entire fortune was to be mine, Bartholomew was to be forgotten.
Sweat was dripping from my face, and that of my solicitor as we watched the scene play out before our eyes.
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction.