Chapter 2 - The Mistress and the Mansion
The morning sun rose over the historic Harbor Point estate, casting long shadows across the pristine, manicured lawns. The Hale mansion was a masterpiece of antebellum architecture, valued at over twelve million dollars, overlooking the Ashley River. It had been in Evelyn’s family for four generations.
By 9:00 a.m., Vanessa Cole was already standing in the grand foyer.
She had shed her tearful hospital act. Now, she wore a sleek, designer knit dress and was directing two moving men who were carrying heavy cardboard boxes into the house.
"Put those in the master bedroom," Vanessa ordered, pointing her manicured finger up the sweeping spiral staircase. "And be careful with the vintage mirrors. If you chip the gilding, I’ll have your licenses."
"What is the meaning of this?"
The sharp voice belonged to Mrs. Gable, the estate’s head housekeeper for thirty years. She stood at the base of the stairs, her arms crossed, her eyes blazing with indignation.
"Ah, Mrs. Gable," Vanessa smiled coldly, walking over to the grand piano and running her finger along its polished surface. "I suggest you adjust your tone. As of this morning, I am moving into Harbor Point. You will report directly to me from now on."
"This is Mrs. Hale’s house," Mrs. Gable said, her voice shaking with rage. "Her body isn't even in the ground yet, and you crawl in here like a thief in the night."
"Mrs. Hale is dead," Vanessa snapped, her voice dropping its sweet veneer. "And her husband, who is the sole heir to this estate, has invited me to manage the household. Now, go prepare the master suite. Remove all of Evelyn’s clothes and personal belongings. Pack them into garbage bags and put them in the garage. I want her scent gone by tonight."
Before Mrs. Gable could reply, the heavy front doors swung open.
Mara Bennett stepped into the foyer. She was accompanied by two men in dark suits carrying leather briefcases, and a sheriff's deputy.
"Stop right there," Mara commanded.
Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Oh, look. The grieving sister. Mara, you have no authority here. Grant owns this house. He inherits everything under the terms of their marriage contract. Go back to Savannah and play with your spreadsheets."
"Actually, Vanessa, you might want to consult a lawyer who isn't currently under investigation for bank fraud," Mara said smoothly.
One of the men with her, a prominent Charleston estate attorney named Arthur Pendelton, stepped forward. He pulled a certified document from his briefcase.
"Ms. Cole," Arthur said. "I am the executor of the Evelyn Hale Estate. Under the terms of the Harbor Point Trust, established by Evelyn’s grandfather, this property is structured as a generation-skipping trust. It does not pass to the spouse. In the event of Evelyn's death, the property remains in trust for her living biological children, with the designated trustee holding absolute possession and residency rights until the heirs reach the age of twenty-five."
"And who is the trustee?" Vanessa sneered, though a seed of doubt began to take root in her mind.
"I am," Mara said, stepping forward. "Which means, Vanessa, you are currently trespassing on trust property. Deputy, please escort this woman and her hired movers off the premises."
The sheriff's deputy stepped forward, his hand resting on his utility belt. "Ma'am, you need to leave. Now."
"This is ridiculous!" Vanessa screamed, her face contorting with rage. "Grant will sue you! He will break this trust! He is the CEO of Hale Shipping!"
"Hale Shipping is currently facing an emergency board meeting because the majority shares were owned by Evelyn’s family trust," Mara countered coldly. "Grant is about to find out that without Evelyn, he is nothing but an employee. Now, get your cheap shoes off my sister's Persian rugs."
Vanessa grabbed her designer handbag, her eyes wild with fury. "You think you've won, Mara? You think those three half-dead babies in the NICU are going to save you? Grant is their father. He will get custody, he will take control of the trust, and I will be back in this house before the month is over!"
"We'll let the DNA report decide that," Mara said quietly.
As Vanessa was escorted out by the deputy, screaming obscenities, Mrs. Gable let out a sob of relief. "Thank you, Miss Mara. Thank you. We couldn't let that woman ruin Miss Evelyn’s memory."
"She won't ruin anything else, Mrs. Gable," Mara said, hugging the older housekeeper. "Change the locks on every door in this house. Code-protect the security system. If Grant Hale so much as steps onto the driveway, call the police immediately."
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Mara walked into the grand parlor, looking at the portrait of Evelyn that hung above the fireplace. Her beautiful sister, smiling, radiant, and full of life.
"I got the house back, Evie," Mara whispered. "But the real fight is just beginning."
