Chapter 8 - The Reading of the Will
Two weeks later.
The winter storm had passed, leaving Chicago covered in a blanket of clean, white snow that sparkled under a brilliant blue sky.
In the high-ceilinged conference room of Sterling & Associates on LaSalle Street, sunlight flooded through the ten-foot windows, casting warm squares across the long mahogany table.
Laszlo Varga had passed away peacefully three days earlier at the Lake Shore mansion, surrounded by his doctors and his youngest son.
Sitting around the conference table were Casper, Thea, Gabriel, Gus Kovak, and Arthur Sterling. Julian Varga was absent—currently held without bail at the Metropolitan Correctional Center downtown, facing federal extortion, tax fraud, and conspiracy charges.
Arthur Sterling opened the heavy red-wax seal on the original handwritten codicil.
"Under the provisions of the final testament of Laszlo Varga," Sterling read in his clear, resonant voice, "all voting shares in Varga International Logistics, the commercial real estate holdings in Cook County, and the primary residence on Lake Shore Drive are placed into an irrevocable trust for the sole benefit of Gabriel Varga."
Sterling paused, looking over his half-moon spectacles at the boy, who sat beside Thea, neatly dressed in a dark blue blazer and a silver tie.
"The testator explicitly appoints Casper Varga as sole executive manager of all commercial operations," Sterling continued, "and names Augustus Kovak as personal custodian of the estate properties."
Sterling turned to the final page of the document, his smile softening.
"Furthermore, in recognition of extraordinary integrity, courage, and service to the protection of my youngest child, the testator directs that an annual endowment of seventy-five thousand dollars be established in perpetuity for the medical care and comfort of Meera Whitlock at Oakwood Sanitarium... and grants to Thea Whitlock the deed and full ownership of the property located at 1814 South Halsted Street in Pilsen."
Thea gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. 1814 South Halsted was the flower shop—Petal and Pine—where she had worked sixty hours a week for four years.
"Mr. Varga purchased the building from Delphine Ash three days before he died," Sterling explained softly, handing her a blue leather document folder. "It is completely paid off, Miss Whitlock. The shop, the second-floor apartment, and the ground lease are yours."
Thea looked down at the paper, her eyes brimming with warm tears. She looked at Casper, who was sitting across from her, his gray eyes watching her with a quiet, intense warmth that held none of the coldness she had seen on their first night at the Ivy Room.
"You knew about this?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"My father was a hard man, Thea," Casper said gently. "But he knew the difference between people who wanted his money and people who cared for his son. He wrote that clause the night after you sat on the floor of Gabriel's room for three hours without asking for a single dollar."
Gabriel reached over, touching Thea’s sleeve. On his small drawing pad, he pushed a fresh page toward her.
May you like
It was a beautiful, detailed pencil sketch of the flower shop on Halsted Street, surrounded by blooming roses, with a small sign above the door that read: WHITLOCK & SON.
And beside the shop stood three small figures drawn with careful love: a little boy with a sketchbook, a tall man in a dark suit, and a young woman with a white apron whose hands were shaped into the sign for FAMILY.
