Chapter 2 The Inheritance Her Grandfather Left Her

Raymond slammed on the brakes and whipped around to stare at her, disbelief written across his face. "What did you just say?"

"Five years, Raymond. I'm exhausted." Jocelyn met his gaze with hollow eyes, her face devoid of emotion. "Since you're convinced I married you for the Murphy family fortune, and now that Grandpa's gone, there's no reason for me to stay. Let's end this amicably."

Raymond let out a derisive laugh, dripping with contempt. "Jocelyn, I underestimated you. Grandpa's body isn't even cold yet, and you're already planning your exit strategy? What's wrong—realized your patron is gone and there's nothing left to squeeze out of the Murphy family, so you're cutting your losses?"

Jocelyn closed her eyes, too drained to argue.

"Think whatever you want." She turned back to the window, her profile pale and fragile in the dim light. "I'll prepare the divorce papers. I won't ask for anything."

Raymond opened his mouth to retort when his phone rang. Jocelyn glanced at the screen—it was Nora calling.

"Raymond, I heard about Grandpa. Are you okay?" Nora's soft voice drifted through the car.

The confined space meant Jocelyn heard every word clearly.

"Yeah, just finished at the hospital," Raymond replied, his tone noticeably gentler.

"Where are you now? I'm worried about you. Can I come keep you company?"

Raymond paused for two seconds before giving her the Murphy estate's address.

Jocelyn's heart sank deeper with each passing moment until her entire body felt frozen.

She had never heard Raymond speak so tenderly to anyone. This was the difference between being loved and being tolerated.

When they arrived at the Murphy estate, the great hall had already been prepared for the wake.

Nora arrived wearing an elegant black dress. The moment she entered, Raymond went to greet her, escorting her as they received mourners together.

They moved in perfect sync, with nearly all the guests gravitating toward Nora—as if she were the lady of the house.

Jocelyn watched the scene with eerie calm, her heart unmoved. Only when her eyes fell on William's portrait did a flicker of emotion cross her face.

Just then, Nora approached on Raymond's arm. Seeing Jocelyn's pallor, she said gently, "Jocelyn, please don't grieve too much. You need to take care of yourself."

Nora's demeanor was gracious and considerate. If Jocelyn hadn't already known her true nature, she might have been fooled.

When Jocelyn had first married Raymond, her phone had been flooded with harassing messages from anonymous numbers—calling her shameless, accusing her of stealing another woman's man.

At first, Jocelyn had dismissed it. Raymond was handsome and wealthy; plenty of socialites admired him.

But as the messages escalated, the anonymous sender had finally revealed herself with a photograph.

It showed Raymond in a car with a woman—blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, curvaceous figure straddling his lap in an unmistakably intimate position.

That was when Jocelyn learned the sender's name: Nora Watson.

She had confronted Raymond with the photo, but he'd been utterly unmoved, coldly mocking her for thinking she had any right to question him.

In the past, Jocelyn might have swallowed the hypocrisy, maintaining a civil facade with Nora for Raymond's sake.

But today, after losing her only ally and with her heart reduced to ashes, she had no intention of accommodating anyone.

Jocelyn lifted her reddened eyes to Nora, her voice tinged with weariness. "Ms. Watson, I appreciate your concern. However, this is a Murphy family matter. Playing hostess might be... overstepping, don't you think?"

Nora's expression shifted. She instinctively moved closer to Raymond, looking up at him with wounded eyes. "Raymond, I was only trying to help..."

"Jocelyn! What the hell is wrong with you?" Raymond exploded, positioning himself protectively in front of Nora. "Grandpa just died, and you can't wait to show your true colors, is that it?"

Jocelyn watched her husband defend another woman right in front of her and felt nothing but bitter absurdity.

A cold smile curved her lips. "Raymond, spare me the theatrics. Grandpa's death is exactly what you wanted—now you can finally marry the woman you actually love."

"You—!" Raymond was momentarily speechless, his face darkening with rage.

Nora tugged gently at his sleeve, her voice soft. "Raymond, please don't be angry. Jocelyn's just overwhelmed with grief—that's why she's saying these things. Don't blame her. This is all my fault. I shouldn't have come..."

The more understanding and self-effacing Nora appeared, the more unreasonable Jocelyn seemed by contrast.

Raymond looked at Nora's wounded expression, then at Jocelyn's cold indifference, and felt his frustration boil over.

He pointed at Jocelyn, his voice icy. "Jocelyn, if I catch you harassing Nora again, don't expect me to show you any mercy!"

Without another glance at Jocelyn, he wrapped his arm around Nora and strode toward the inner hall.

Jocelyn stared at Grandpa's portrait—the old man's smile warm and kind.

Slowly, she sank to her knees, hugging herself tightly, burying her face as silent sobs wracked her body.

'Grandpa, now that you're gone, there's no one left in this world to protect me.'

After the last mourner departed, the entire Murphy family gathered in the study as Mr. Jenkins, the family attorney, opened William's will.

When they heard that William had left fifty percent of Murphy Corporation's shares to Jocelyn, everyone was stunned into silence.

"That's impossible!" Raymond's uncle, Victor Murphy, was the first to object. "Why would Dad leave so much to an outsider?"

Mr. Jenkins passed the will around for inspection. "The will has been notarized and is completely legal. In addition to the shares, Mr. William has left Ms. Ross a fifty-million-dollar trust fund and a personal letter."

He handed the envelope to Jocelyn.

Raymond's expression turned thunderous. He looked at Jocelyn with undisguised contempt. "Well played, Jocelyn. You really outdid yourself."

Jocelyn was as shocked as everyone else by William's provisions, but she ignored Raymond's sarcasm, her hands trembling as she opened the envelope.

The first line brought tears to her eyes.

[Jocelyn, by the time you read this, I'll be gone. These five years have been hard on you. Raymond is too stubborn. I know you've endured more than your share of suffering in the Murphy family...]

William hadn't just left her shares and money—he'd also established an art gallery for her in Solstice.

[You can choose to stay with Raymond. With the shares in your hands, he won't dare mistreat you. Or you can divorce him and start fresh in Solstice. Whatever you choose, I support you. You're a good person, Jocelyn. You deserve a better life.]

Before marrying Raymond, Jocelyn had been a research scientist.

But she'd also harbored a dream—to become an artist.

No one remembered that dream.

Only William had remembered. Even in his final moments, he'd been thinking of her.