The Inheritance

Contents Title Copyright Books by Cassie Cole 1 - Robyn 2 - Robyn 3 - Robyn 4 - Robyn 5 - Chase 6 - Robyn 7 - Xander 8 - Robyn 9 - Chase 10 - Robyn 11 - Robyn 12 - Robyn 13 - Robyn 14 - Robyn 15 - Robyn 16 - Brody 17 - Robyn 18 - Robyn 19 - Chase 20 - Robyn 21 - Robyn 22 - Chase 23 - Robyn 24 - Brody 25 - Xander 26 - Robyn 27 - Brody 28 - Robyn 29 - Robyn 30 - Xander 31 - Robyn 32 - Robyn 33 - Chase 34 - Chase 35 - Robyn 36 - Robyn 37 - Robyn 38 - Brody 39 - Robyn 40 - Robyn 41 - Robyn 42 - Robyn 43 - Xander 44 - Chase 45 - Robyn 46 - Xander 47 - Robyn 48 - Robyn 49 - Robyn 50 - Robyn 51 - Robyn 52 - Robyn 53 - Chase 54 - Robyn 55 - Robyn 56 - Brody 57 - Robyn 58 - Robyn 59 - Robyn Epilogue Bonus Chapter About the Author The Inheritance Copyright © 2023 Juicy Gems Publishing All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form without prior consent of the author. Edited by Gail Gentry Follow me on social media to stay up-to-date on new releases, announcements, and prize giveaways! www.cassiecoleromance.com Books by Cassie Cole Standalone Novels The Inheritance Bosses With Benefits Nanny for the Mercenaries Shared by the Billionaires Nanny for the Santas Nanny for the Firemen Nanny for the SEALs Shared by the Cowboys Nanny for the Billionaire Her Lucky Charm Naughty Resolution Unwrapped Frostbitten Snowbound Hail Mary Extra Credit Nanny With Benefits Triple Play Tiger Queen The Study Group Undercover Action Trained At The Gym Christmas Package The Naughty List Smolder Sealed With A Kiss Full Contact The Proposition Saved by the SEALs Shared by her Bodyguards Triple Team All In Five Alarm Christmas Drilled Broken In Pyromancer’s Path Warrior’s Wrath Mage’s Mercy Tinker’s Trial Ranger’s Risk Shadow’s Savior 1 Robyn The big Victorian mansion that belonged to Alistair Fritz Schreiber, locally known as the Schreiber Estate, came into view as I drove down the long paved driveway flanked by sprawling oak trees. I had come here every single day—even weekends!—for nearly a year. It was more than just a workplace for me. The sight of it, and the lone inhabitant within, used to fill me with boundless happiness. However, today it held none of that charm. Even as the iron gate creaked open and I pulled into the driveway, I struggled to keep tears from welling in my eyes. I didn’t want to be here. But then I saw the familiar sight of a blue Honda Civic. Chase is here already. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I thought about Chase, the guy I had been crushing on for the past year. At least I wasn’t alone in all of this. Parked on the other side of his Civic was a Santa Cruz Police Cruiser. All happy thoughts about Chase immediately disappeared. As I got out of my car, I took a long look at the mansion. Four stories of red brick covered in vines and moss. Behind the walls, polished hardwood floors laid throughout twenty different rooms of the thousand square feet interior, along with a lifetime of collected antiques and enough dust and cobwebs to give Alice from The Brady Bunch a permanent scowl. It felt like home. In a lot of ways, it was my home. Or at least, it used to be. Everything was different, now. I reached into my pocket for the key to the house, but stopped when I realized the massive wooden front door was ajar. I took a deep breath and walked inside. New smells were the first thing I noticed. Alistair had worn the same Paco Rabanne cologne every day I had known him, but there was a different scent in the air. Something clean, but cheap. Like Old Spice deodorant. The marble floors and high ceilings of the foyer caused the voices in the adjacent study to carry; three men speaking softly. Hushed, funereal voices. I knew I should go into the study straightaway, but there was an object in the foyer that I had never really paid much attention to. An object which I was now transfixed by. The oil painting on the far wall was massive, at least as large as the front doorway. It was painted in the style of the Dutch golden age, with deep black shadows and realistic, almost life-like, facial detail. It showed a young man standing at attention, slightly turned sideways, wearing a suit and overcoat. Even if I had never seen it before, I would have recognized the man by his thick blond hair and piercing blue eyes. I flinched as a voice called out, “Are you Ms. Winters?” I turned to find a uniformed police officer standing in the doorway to the study. “No. I mean, yes. I’m Robyn Winters.” “Good,” the officer said, pulling out a pocket-sized notepad and pencil. His boots echoed on the marble floor as he approached. “Do you have some identification?” “I… I left my purse at home,” I said. “When I got the call about Alistair, I jumped in the car and came straight over. Is that a problem?” Sighing, the officer said, “Don’t worry about it. We just have a few questions for you.” The second officer came out of the study. She stood next to her partner and stared at me like I was the suspect in a murder investigation. Or maybe it was just my imagination. That reminded me that Alistair was gone, that this was just a big empty mansion now. Tears started shimmering in my vision. “Hey, it’s all right,” the first officer said. “Don’t worry about your license. We won’t give you a ticket when