Drawn to either side of the window, the curtains she held almost felt as silky as her golden locks. The master bedroom overlooked the stone driveway that led to the entrance of the mansion. Like the rest of the place, the room looked outdated. Overly ornate and grandiose. Like her beloved father, it seemed to belong in a different era. His dear home. She would have loved to see the whole building in flames, like her father. Certainly, his haphazard dead was quite a tragedy. Also a mystery as well.<br/><br/>Why would a wealthy businessman decide to end his life in such a painful way, setting himself on fire only a week after making his will? Both suspicious and enigmatic. Not sorrow, but it was frustration what she felt over his untimely demise. It was no secret that she was not on good terms with her dad. Upon his death, the man had left nothing to his children, instead choosing to distribute his considerable wealth among friends, servants, distant relatives and even promising employees. His will included something about her daughter though, that he wanted her to read it to the inheritors, hence this meeting. A final, tasteless joke, she supposed.<br/><br/>"Bunch of fools, Audrey." Before she would eventually have to wear a mask of hospitality, to some extent at least, Grace sighed as the thirty-two-year-old blonde kept looking out of the window, blue eyes squinted at all the cars that were parking and wandering on the outside, undoubtedly carrying her so-called guests. Strangers who came here to claim what should have been hers.<br/><br/>The bodycon dress she wore hugged her slender form, tracing the gentle contour of her body and reaching down to her thighs. Her modestly protruding chest didn't require much support. She had omitted a bra, a fashion choice her backless dress didn't hide. Looking back over her shoulder, her eyes found her assistant, and loyal friend. Keeper of her secrets. "I don't regret it."<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.pinimg.com%2Foriginals%2Fad%2F22%2F57%2Fad22570bdae493d5a60087c1409647ae.jpg&amp;hash=a6cfbd142248bbcf8e904f7592419cb8" href="https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ad/22/57/ad22570bdae493d5a60087c1409647ae.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Grace</a>expressed, as fingers that didn't belong to her pinched the zipper of her dress in the back, gently pulling it up and past her narrow waist.<br/><br/>"I won't let them have it." She continued as a soft hand perched on her bare shoulder, slowly running down her arm. Such touches were part of the reason behind her quarrel with her father, that it wasn't only men who were welcome in her bed. A strife that had been ignited many years prior, and lasted till the man's horrible death.<br/><br/>"Coming down?" Audrey asked. Surely, it was expected of the temporary lady of the house to personally greet the guests, before handing over the keys to its new owner. Receiving a simple nod as a response, the young brunette left the bedroom. Gently lowering her coy hips onto the side of the bed, Graced opened a drawer. Polished fingers that matched her lips delved into it. It was a velvet jewellery box what she pulled out, which contained a necklace. Undoubtedly, it was quite valuable. Though, its sentimental value was far greater. It belonged to her mother, after all. And seeing it on someone else' neck would make her want to slit said someone's throat. While busy gazing at it, an unpleasant smell tickled her nose as if the chef had forgotten the meal in the oven. Along with it, the creaking of the door interrupted her. "I said I'm coming, didn't I?" Grace tossed the box into the drawer. "And what's that smell?" Her glare pierced through the room as she sharply looked back. Her lovely assistant wasn't there however. In fact, no one was.<br/><br/>Underneath her dress, fair thighs brushed against each other as Grace unhurriedly went downstairs. The wide staircase she descended brought the woman to the foyer. The tiles looked pristine under her feet. The housekeepers surely made a good job keeping things orderly and clean. She knew them, of course. After all, this was where she had grown up, although she couldn't help but feel like a stranger at the moment. However, her eyes failed to spot the familiar face of a housekeeper on the ground floor, but ginger locks that framed a young little face. It had been quite a few years since she had seen Richard. However, that wasn't the reason she had yet to recognise him. Or her, for that matter. Arrival of guests was imminent, but she doubted one of them had already entered the mansion. "Who are you?" Grace bluntly questioned. Being an observant woman, especially when it came to faces, her inspective eyes began to squint. "When?"