The Prince’s Bride – Part 1 (The Prince’s Bride #1) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Prince's Bride Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
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I couldn’t believe it. The more I read it, the more I shook. “He can’t do this!” I hollered across her room, waving the paper above my head like a crazy woman. “It’s chauvinistic! It’s archaic! It’s wrong!”

“It’s his money, Odette. He can make the rules for whoever gets it,” she said, coming back out with a facial mask all over her.

“I know, but these are dumb rules. He should be the last person to advocate marriage. I mean...ugh. I’m so angry! How could he do this?” I lifted the paper back up to my face. “And what does ‘a person of respectable integrity, morality, and standing’ mean.”

“It means, don’t go marry a hobo off the street to get the money,” she clarified, moving to sit at her vanity.

“I get what it means! What I don’t get is who the hell is going to decide what a ‘person of respectable integrity, morality, and standing’ is?” And listen to this. Dad must have had a ball coming up with is part. ‘Should either daughter fail to marry, the assets totaling fifty-one point eight billion dollars will be divided. The first half shall be given to the Marvin Wyntor Global Foundation, and the second reinvested in Etheus.’ He’s threatening us!”

“You have to love your father. He said his money was either going back to him or going back to his company, which is also him.” Wilhelmina snickered before rubbing cream onto her neck.

“Exactly. No matter what, his money stays connected to everything he created. That is selfish and conceited! But no, he’s not done.” I smacked the paper bitterly. “Should only one daughter fail to marry and provide a child, the full sum and assets will pass on to the child of the other daughter under the same aforementioned conditions—so much for not pitting Augusta and me against each other!”

“At least he didn’t put a time frame on it,” she replied calmly, patting under her eyelids.

I paused, staring as she comfortably prepped and primed her face.

Her eyes shifted and met mine in the mirror when I was silent. “What?”

“Why am I the only one upset, pacing, and yelling?”

“Good question. Will you sit down and relax? Try this new golden banana and orchid facemask I just got—”

“Let me rephrase the question,” I cut in because she obviously didn’t understand where I was going or understood perfectly and was trying to distract me. “Why don’t you seem surprised, Mom?”

“I told you. Your father always spoke about wanting to continue his legacy. I’m surprised he didn’t insist you take his last name after marriage,” she replied and got up quickly, moving to leave the room.

Something is off.

“Yeah, but Yvonne just brought Dad’s new will today. You should at least be surprised.” She should be angrier than me, in fact.

“I was surprised, which is why Yvonne and I fought before you came back from your abnormally long bathroom break,” she said as we walked down the staircase.

“You always had fights, so that was normal for you, Mom. You didn’t say anything as Mr. Greensboro explained the will. You just kept texting. Who were you texting?”

“You know, it’s very rude for you to question your mother like this. You’re making me feel like some sort of criminal.” She huffed and rubbed her earlobe.

That was her tell! She always did that when she was up to something or knew she’d get in a little bit of trouble.

“Mom, what did you do!”

“Nothing! So stop accusing me,” she snapped before marching into the living room and taking her seat on her chaise lounge, which overlooked all of Seattle.

The view always took my breath away, but right now, it was the anxiousness that made my chest constrict. I thought back throughout the day, trying to see if there was anything she could have done if she’d left any clues—wait.

“Oh, don’t just stand there, Odette. I think the chef made us some yogurt for an evening snack. Why don’t we have that and—”

“This afternoon, you said, ‘The plan is to trust your mother.’ You weren’t expecting Yvonne to show today, but you knew about the new will, didn’t you?”

“Odette.”

“I know you, Mom—better than anyone—so, I know you won’t stop until I have that money. If you’re this calm, if you tell me to trust you, it’s because you have a plan.”

She lifted her issue of Vogue, flipping the pages casually. “Will you please uncover the yogurt, Sherlock Holmes, instead of interrogating me?”

“Okay, then.” I pulled out my phone, already dialing.

“What are you doing?” she questioned.

Ignoring her, I lifted the phone to my ear.

“Odette.”

“Mr. Greensboro, I’m sorry for calling so late, but I’ve decided to give up on—”

“Have you lost your mind!” She snatched the phone. “Charles, she’s just kidding...” Her face fell when she realized I hadn’t actually hit call. “You are not funny.”


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