Rich Radiant and Over Him (Alicia and Vincent) novel Chapter 344

“You’re barely letting your father’s body grow cold before you start fighting over his estate and demanding the will. Do you have any decency left?” Reginald’s voice shook with fury, his breath coming in shallow, agitated bursts.

Clayton Holloway rushed to steady him. “Grandpa, please, calm down. Your health isn’t great either.”

Reginald’s eyes were rimmed red as he shook his head and left the hospital room with a weary sigh.

After the doctor finished the examination, he filled out the official death certificate.

But instead of handing it to Marcus Lynch to sign, the doctor turned to Tyrone Lynch.

Tyrone stood silent for a moment before finally raising his hand and signing his name on the certificate.

…

The old man’s funeral was simple, almost austere, but the line of mourners stretched long outside the chapel.

Alicia Shelton stood quietly beside Tyrone, watching the steady procession of people coming to pay their respects.

As the last guests trickled away, Marcus’s impatience boiled over. “The funeral’s over. Isn’t it time to announce the inheritance?” For him, the only thing that mattered was the estate; he couldn’t even wait until the last mourner had left before pushing the lawyers to read the will.

The lawyers exchanged a glance before turning to Tyrone.

“The late Mr. Lynch left a will,” the lead attorney announced gravely. He opened a secure briefcase and pulled out the document.

“It states that the entire Lynch family estate is to be inherited by Mr. Tyrone Lynch.”

Marcus stared at the attorney, stunned. For a long moment, he simply stood there, unable to process what he’d heard. “What? You must have read the wrong name. Check again!”

“It’s Mr. Tyrone Lynch,” the lawyer repeated.

Marcus lost control, grabbing the front of the lawyer’s suit. “Are you out of your mind? My father changed his will—he left everything to me! Why the hell would he give it all to Tyrone?”

He rounded on his son. “Easton Lynch, you’re the head of the family now! Lynch Corporation is in your hands. Say something—tell everyone that the estate is mine, that your grandfather left it to me!” Marcus was practically foaming at the mouth, shaking Easton by the shoulders.

One of the attorneys stepped forward. “Mr. Marcus, years ago you signed an agreement renouncing any claim to the Lynch family inheritance.”

Marcus’s face went pale as he bit down on his frustration. “Fine. Fine, Tyrone—you win this time.”

He turned to Easton, forcing a smile. “It’s all right. Easton is my son, and he’s the one running Lynch Corporation now. The company’s doing better than ever, and shares are what really matter!”

Standing tall, Marcus tried to project the air of a man still in control, as though Easton’s position gave him the right to call himself master of the Lynch family. “Son, where’s your mother?”

Only then did he remember his wife was nowhere to be seen.

“My mother’s gone back to the old house in the fishing village,” Easton replied quietly. “She said she wanted to spend some time with you.”

Marcus’s face clouded with confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean? Why’d she suddenly go back? Foolish woman.”

He jabbed a finger at Easton. “Get someone to bring your mother back here, and buy us a new house in Harboridge City—nothing less than a mansion, and it better not be any smaller than the Lynch estate. Minimum price, over ten million. Hire a few housekeepers—young ones. I’ve got someone in mind. Make sure you bring her in, pay her well—no less than $10,000 a month.”