What. The. Fuck?

“It’s possible,” Commodore says simply.

“And what are you doing about it? We need to know. We need to make decisions. Act. Have a strategy.”

My mind flies along at a million miles an hour. The Riscoff family succession has never been questioned. From the day I was born, I’ve been the Riscoff heir. For over 170 years, the company and estate have been handed down to the oldest male descendant, and every other descendant is legally entitled to nothing.

“I’ve been handling it. Quietly, because I don’t want the family name dragged through the dirt again.” His gaze narrows on me. “We don’t need that.”

“You told them they can’t get a DNA sample, right?”

Commodore nods slowly, suddenly looking like he’s aged twenty years. “They want to exhume the body. Latest letter gave me thirty days to agree before they file a petition with the court.”

My head fills with static.

They want to crack open my father’s casket. Remove his body. All to see if there’s another potential Riscoff heir who could claim the family’s assets.

This is not happening.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” My voice comes out rough as I shake my head. I meet the old man’s gaze. “What did they say when you told them no way in hell?”

He lifts his chin. “I haven’t replied. I’m still thinking on it.”

I blink twice, staring at him like I don’t understand the language he’s speaking. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Don’t you take that tone with me, boy. I make the decisions.” He grips both arms of his chair. “We don’t need this in court. How do you think that would make us look? And your mother? She’d lose her goddamn mind.”

The reality of the situation hits me. If they dig up my father, my mother is going to have a heart attack. Maybe not literally, but close enough. She could never handle this. But why would Commodore Riscoff, the man who refuses to be forced into anything, allow this?

“They wanted a settlement and you said no, didn’t you?”

He nods sharply. “That’s when they came back with the exhumation request.”

“Fuck. They must think this person is truly my father’s son, and older than me. That’s the only way it makes financial sense to pursue it.” I meet the old man’s gaze. “You want to hand everything over to a complete stranger? Someone who hasn’t worked himself to the bone for the last decade to protect and preserve your legacy?”

Commodore’s gaze turns flinty. “I don’t like any of it. And I haven’t kicked the bucket yet. I can change my will anytime I want. You’d do well to remember that, boy. I still get to decide who gets what. No family tradition binds me if I change my mind.”

My head drops back and I stare up at the wood-plank ceiling, desperately trying to find control amidst the chaos that has just been unleashed on my life. When I’ve gathered myself, I meet the old man’s dark brown eyes.