Chapter 8
Elizbeth followed Jacob out of the dining room and into the sprawling, sunlit living room. She heard the clicking of heels behind her and realized Jamel and Dwight had shamelessly followed them.
Jacob walked over to the large stone fireplace. He punched a code into the hidden wall safe and pulled out an antique, carved rosewood box.
He opened the lid. Resting on black velvet was a flawless, vibrant green emerald bracelet. It was a priceless Wilkinson family heirloom.
Jacob reached out and took Elizbeth's hand. In front of everyone, he slid the heavy, ice-cold emerald over her wrist.
The cold stone sent a shock up Elizbeth's arm. She panicked, trying to pull her hand back. "Grandfather, I can't-"
Jacob shot her a stern look that immediately silenced her.
Standing a few feet away, Jamel stared at the bracelet. Pure, unadulterated jealousy burned in his eyes, making his face look ugly and twisted.
Jamel quickly plastered on a fake, concerned smile and stepped forward.
"Jacob, since we are handling family heirlooms," Jamel said smoothly, his eyes fixed on the safe, "perhaps I should take custody of the vintage gold pocket watch. Given Carlton's... declining health, it's really too much of a burden for him to manage such an important symbol of the trust."
Jacob's bushy eyebrows slammed together. His face flushed with anger at his younger grandson's blatant power grab. He slammed his cane hard against the hardwood floor. The loud crack echoed like a gunshot. "Absolutely not," Jacob barked, his voice filled with unquestionable authority. "That watch belongs to the family heir. Your concerns are entirely baseless, Jamel. Do not ever bring this up again."
Before Jamel could argue, Carlton walked through the living room archway.
He had clearly heard the entire conversation. The temperature in the room plummeted.
Carlton marched directly up to Jamel. He stopped inches from his face, using his massive height to tower over his brother.
"Are you suggesting that I'm about to die?" Carlton asked, his voice a lethal whisper. "Are you just waiting for me to drop so you can officially take my place?"
Jamel gasped. He stumbled backward, his heel catching on the edge of the rug. He nearly fell over.
"N-no, Carlton, of course not," he stammered, a bead of cold sweat rolling down his temple.
Dwight immediately stepped beside Jamel, eager to align himself with the brother who might soon take over. He offered Carlton a calm, placating smile.
"Carlton, please. Jamel is just worried about your well-being. There is no ulterior motive," Dwight lied smoothly.
Carlton let out a harsh scoff. His eyes cut through Jamel and Dwight like a serrated knife. He didn't believe a single word. The air in the living room felt like a stretched rubber band, ready to snap. He looked at his grandfather, disgusted that these vultures were allowed to circle so openly in his own home. His jaw clenched so hard Elizbeth thought his teeth might shatter.
He turned his head and glared at Elizbeth. His eyes dropped to the emerald bracelet shining on her wrist, lingering there for a second with intense hatred.
Without saying a single word, Carlton spun on his heel and stormed out of the living room.
The front door of the estate slammed shut with enough force to rattle the windows.
Elizbeth grabbed her wrist, her fingers wrapping tightly around the cold emerald. Her palms were sweating. She was standing right in the middle of a vicious war for power.
Jamel shot Elizbeth a smug, victorious look before turning and walking away with Dwight.
The living room was empty except for Elizbeth and Jacob.
Jacob let out a long, exhausted sigh. He looked older than he had ten minutes ago. He waved his hand at Elizbeth.
"Come with me to my private study upstairs," he said quietly.
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