Five Days After I Ended Things With My Ex, a Ruthless Stranger Demanded I Vacate My Late Father's House — But My Inheritance Papers and a Court Appraiser Shocked Them All
Two days later, the air in the woodcraft guild workshop was thick with the scent of sawdust and unspoken judgment. I pushed open the familiar double doors, expecting the usual warm greetings from fellow artisans, but the room went quiet. A sudden, chilling hush.
Mrs. Albright, who managed the guild’s communal accounts and usually greeted me with a cheerful wave, was at the counter. Her gaze flickered to me, then quickly away, focusing instead on a stack of invoices.
“Good morning, Mrs. Albright,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.
She didn’t look up. “Ms. Linwood,” she mumbled, her tone clipped.
I walked over to my workbench, the silence feeling heavier than the oak logs stacked in the corner. My usual tools were missing, replaced by a note. It was from guild management, informing me that my communal workshop account was temporarily suspended due to “unresolved financial discrepancies.”
My stomach clenched. This wasn’t right. I paid my guild dues like clockwork.
I turned back to Mrs. Albright, holding up the note. “What is this about? My account is always current.”
She finally looked at me, her face a mask of discomfort. “We received some… information, Ms. Linwood. From Mr. Brock’s firm. Financial statements concerning yourself and Mr. Kincaid.”
“Julian Brock?” I asked, my voice rising in disbelief. “What does he have to do with my guild account?”
She hesitated, then pushed a printed document across the counter. It was a fake balance sheet, clearly doctored. It showed entries where I supposedly “withdrew” funds from an account held jointly with Leo, specifically “transfers” totaling exactly $50,000. The document claimed these were Leo’s savings, taken without his consent, now the subject of an “ongoing civil dispute.”
“He’s telling people I stole from Leo?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. The audacity. The sheer, calculated malice of it.
“Mr. Brock also sent notices to several of our material suppliers,” Mrs. Albright added, her gaze darting to the other guild members, who were now pointedly busy with their projects. “Claiming you were involved in fraudulent activities, making you a credit risk.”
I looked around the workshop, at the faces of people I’d known since I was a child. Mr. Henderson, who had taught me how to carve fine detail into cherry wood, avoided my eyes, polishing a chisel with exaggerated focus. Young Sarah, who I’d helped with her first dovetail joint, hurried past me without a glance.
This wasn’t just about money. This was about reputation. Julian was poisoning my name in the one community that mattered most to me, the place that had been my second home since my father first brought me here.
“This is a lie,” I stated, my voice shaking with a quiet fury I rarely felt. “These documents are false. Julian Brock is trying to illegally seize my house, and Leo Kincaid is a pawn in his scheme. I have proof of ownership, a signed agreement—”
Mrs. Albright held up a hand. “Ms. Linwood, we understand there are two sides to every story. However, with these allegations and the formal warnings from Mr. Brock’s firm, the guild’s board felt it necessary to suspend your access and accounts until this matter is resolved.”
She cleared her throat. “And your suppliers are also receiving these notices. We advise you to contact them directly.”
My hands tightened into fists. My father had built his entire career here. His reputation was impeccable. To have Julian smear me, his daughter, with such blatant falsehoods, right here, felt like a desecration.
I knew this wasn’t just a threat. It was an orchestrated attack. Julian wanted to cut off my livelihood, make it impossible for me to work, to create, to exist in this community. He wanted to isolate me, to make me panic and give up.
But I wouldn’t. This was my legacy he was trying to destroy.
I grabbed my bag, the raw wood smell suddenly bitter in my nostrils. I would deal with Mrs. Albright and the guild later. First, I needed to face my suppliers.
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