"Richard, if I really wanted Hilton Group, do you honestly think Grandpa's will could stop me?"
Lucas lifted his eyes lazily, voice flat, but the chill in it made Richard's blood run cold.
Grandpa's will had clearly stated that if Lucas didn't marry before twenty-eight, Hilton Family's fortune would default to Richard. But if Lucas refused to comply—who could really stop him?
Richard's face drained of color. Lucas was right. Hilton Group was entirely under his control; no piece of paper could strip it away. At best, they'd just been clinging to a shred of hope that he might obediently bow to Grandpa's wishes.
"Brother," Richard pressed on, fists clenched, unwilling to back down. "In eight days you'll be twenty-eight. Jessica and I set our wedding for six days from now. I expect you'll be there."
Petty as it was, beating Lucas to the altar—even symbolically—still gave him a sense of victory.
