Noah's Adventure - 14. Grace's Intel

“You were right in your assessment, Grayson,” Grace said, sitting back in her chair. “It was definitely financially motivated.”

“How bad are they in debt?” Grayson asked, though I had the distinct feeling he already knew the answer.

“Between the loans for cars, houses, and other luxury items, it’s around five million,” Grace said, glancing down at her papers. “Factor in Paul’s gambling debt, and it jumps to around ten.”

“Paul has five million in gambling debt?” Grandma gasped. “How is that even possible?”

“He’s been on the take for years,” Grace replied, shuffling documents. “It gave him the appearance of a higher income. Someone was also fronting him money. Honestly, I’m surprised his loans haven’t been called in yet.”

“That is surprising,” Grandma said, exchanging a look with Grandpa before adding, “Nate, you were right. I should have listened to you.”

“He was right about what?” Grayson asked, Grace nodding in agreement as she waited.

“Years ago, Paul had a serious gambling problem,” Grandpa said. He paused, like he hated even saying the words. “Evelyn handled it. He wasn’t allowed credit cards, and they kept separate accounts. After she cleaned everything up and they divorced, Paul continued living lavishly despite not having the income to support it. Megan’s father told us to steer clear of Paul after everything went down—but he never said why.”

“Given our proximity to D.C., it has to be political,” Grayson summarized. “Unless the mob suddenly has ties here.”

Grandma shook her head. Not no—absolutely not.

“I can talk to my contacts,” Grandma said carefully, “but I can tell you now—it isn’t the mob.”

“And you’re certain of that?” Grace pressed.

“Yes,” Grandma replied, irritation flashing in her voice.

“It’s always politics in this town,” Grandpa chuckled.

“That it is,” Grandma agreed. “So—what are the next steps?”

“Well,” Grace said, “Evelyn was a smart woman. The trust she set up is ironclad—written as an irrevocable trust, which makes it hard, though not impossible, to challenge.”

“Who’s the trustee?” Grayson asked.

“That was the most intriguing part,” Grace replied. “Initially, it was Preston. His assets were separate, and they had a mutual agreement that if Evelyn died first, he’d carry out her wishes. Since he died first—and named her his sole beneficiary—his will poured all of his assets into the trust. After that, she named Cameron Matthews-Worthington as the successor trustee.”

“Of New York?” Grayson said, shock unmistakable.

“He has two homes, remember?” Grandma said, scrolling through her phone. “New York and San Diego.”

“You know him?” Grace asked, though the question was pointless.

“We sure do,” Grayson said with a smirk. “He’s our cousin.”

“I spoke with him briefly,” Grace added. “He said he was close with both Preston and Evelyn. They even played pickleball together. Being related to Noah never came up.”

“He might not know,” Grandma said thoughtfully. “His parents kept him away from the family drama—much like I tried to. I do wonder if Evelyn knew.”

“She was a lot like you, Grandma,” I said finally. “I’d bet she did.”

“I’ve scheduled a call with Cameron for tomorrow,” Grace continued. “I’d like Grayson, Noah, and his guardians present so we can start strategizing. Ideally, we shut this down before it goes any further.”

“I see the invite,” Grayson said, checking his email. “I’ll make sure everyone who needs to be there attends.”

The video call ended, and the silence that followed felt heavy. I realized then that my mother’s greed wasn’t going anywhere.

“You’re right, Noah,” Grandma said quietly, looking at me. “She won’t ever go away.”

“This shouldn’t be too difficult,” Grayson said, scrolling through documents on his iPad. “Evelyn had regular mental evaluations every two months. Grace sent them over.”

“Wouldn’t that make her look paranoid?” I asked. It certainly would’ve made me wonder.

“Normally, yes,” Grayson replied. “But not when the documentation shows clear intent, consistency, and independent medical confirmation.”

“Should be,” Shiloh muttered sarcastically, earning a smile from me.

“Murphy’s Law,” I said, turning toward him.

“Yep,” he agreed, squeezing my hand.

“So what’s the plan?” Grandpa asked.

“I need to review everything Grace sent,” Grayson said, “including a formal request for me to co-counsel.”

“Do I need to officially hire you?” I asked. I had no idea how any of this worked. Who even needs a lawyer at eighteen?

“No,” Grayson replied. “I’m retained by your grandparents and the Jacobs Family Estate Trust.”

“Sounds boring,” I said, making Shiloh chuckle.

“It’s not all I do,” Grayson said dryly. “In fact, I’m also a family lawyer. And I happen to be Shiloh’s lawyer.”

“What?” Shiloh blurted.

“Grayson,” Grandma snapped, sharp enough to make him wince.

“Why does he need a lawyer?” I demanded, standing up, fists clenched.

Grayson, Grandma, and Grandpa exchanged a look.

And that told me everything I needed to know.