I’d drafted the last updates to his last will and testament just three weeks earlier. He’d made some changes that puzzled me, but I was an attorney. My job was to do what the client wanted as long as the law allowed it.

And the law allowed a person to bequeath whatever he wanted to whomever he wanted with whatever contingencies he wanted.

I fiddled with my hair. I was about to meet Derek Wolfe’s ex-wife and children. His longtime live-in lover, ex-supermodel Fonda Burke, would probably show up as well.

I’d never met any of them, but I’d seen plenty of photos. They were all spectacular, as anyone descended from or associated with Derek Wolfe was bound to be.

He had a reputation as a wolf—no pun intended—in the boardroom and the bedroom. Not that I’d know, though he’d tried to lure me to his bed more than once. Admittedly, I’d considered it, even though he was thirty years my senior. The man was gorgeous.

His sons were even more gorgeous. At least the two younger ones were. I’d never seen so much as a photo of his oldest son, Rock. His daughter, Riley, was quickly replacing Fonda Burke as the most successful supermodel of all time—a fact I was sure perturbed the latter more than a lot.

I needed caffeine. Actually, I needed a shot of tequila, but coffee would have to suffice. I couldn’t meet the children of Derek Wolfe with alcohol on my breath.

Today I’d deliver some news that none of them could possibly be expecting.

I sat at the head of the table in the conference room. I’d only been made a partner during the last year, so when my mentor, Robert Mayes, had given me the Derek Wolfe estate file, presumably at the client’s request, I’d been more than a little flabbergasted, but large estates were my specialty, so I’d dived right in.

To my right sat Constance Larson Wolfe, blond and beautiful and botoxed, perfect “first wife” material. She and Derek had been divorced for the last five years, and she’d been living the high life on her spousal maintenance. She wouldn’t like what was in the document I held before me, but nothing could be done about that.

Next to her was Riley Wolfe, supermodel extraordinaire, and Derek’s only daughter. Dark hair and eyes, definitely a winter type, though she modeled during all the seasons. She was in demand and was fast accumulating her own fortune.