The Nation's President Picked Me Up From Prison-Chapter 35: Elyn: Don’t Pick Someone Randomly

Cold water hits my face. I pat my cheeks, look at myself in the mirror, and decide I don’t look half as chaotic as I feel.

Instead of returning to Greg’s mansion, I asked Jean to bring me to my apartment. There were a few suspicious shadows loitering near the building, but my security team whisked me inside like they were auditioning for an action movie. Very efficient.

My departure from JZ Entertainment and Kayla’s little meltdown at the awards night have turned me into breaking news. Dahlia keeps telling me networks and talk shows want exclusive interviews, but the thought alone makes me want to crawl into my blanket and hibernate.

I’m nowhere near ready to step back into celebrity mode.

I thought pressing pause on my career meant I’d get a relaxing break. Instead, I’m dealing with inheritance drama and lawyers. Life has a great sense of humor.

Dahlia came over, and so did my lawyer, Dale—who, surprisingly, is someone I knew back in college. Dahlia accidentally hired a familiar face.

I’m lounging on my sofa, a bowl of popcorn in my lap, while Dale walks me through the legal labyrinth that is my life now.

"Let’s go over the inheritance first."

"Right." I toss popcorn into my mouth. "Worst-case scenario, Logan’s relatives contest the will. What happens then?"

"They’d need a valid reason," he says. "Claims like fraud, coercion, or mental incapacity."

I blink. "Mental incapacity? Logan was fine... I guess?"

Dale looks at me like he’s a bit confused. Maybe confused that I’m not sure if my husband was fine or not.

"Even if someone is stable, being on medication, like antidepressants, could be used as an argument. Typically by relatives who want a piece of the pie."

I pause mid-chew. "Seriously? So they can just point at a pill bottle and go, ’He wasn’t thinking straight’?"

"Let’s just say they can try," Dale replies. "But they’d need proof. Medical evaluations, testimonies."

Dahlia, who’s sitting on the armchair beside us, crosses her legs. "To be fair, those relatives barely visited him. And none of them ever cared about the company. If they contest the will, it’s not for responsibility, it’s for money."

"And just to reiterate," he says, "the fact that you and Logan weren’t legally married doesn’t disqualify you from receiving what he left you. The will is valid on its own. Marriage, or the lack of it, only becomes an issue if someone argues that he mistakenly believed you were his legal spouse when drafting the will."

"Now," he adds, "there’s a delicate detail we need to acknowledge. You and Logan weren’t legally married... but Logan thought you were."

I feel my shoulders tense. "Yeah. That’s the part that’s going to cause trouble, isn’t it?"

"It could," Dale admits. "If relatives contest the will, they might use that as an argument, saying Logan was under a mistaken belief when making the decision. Or that someone misled him."

My jaw drops. "Misled him? I can barely convince him to have dinner with me. Who exactly do they think I’m manipulating?"

"It’s just the type of argument people make when money is involved. But again, they’d need proof. Strong proof. And the will itself is very clear and specific. There’s nothing vague or irrational about his instructions."

"So if his relatives get dramatic, they’d basically need to prove he was out of his mind?" 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

"Exactly. And as I mentioned earlier, unless there is solid medical evidence that he was mentally incapable, their argument won’t stand."

From the armchair, Dahlia chimes in. "Plus, those relatives weren’t even close to him. They barely visited, and they never lifted a finger for Hansley Group. Contesting the will would be pure opportunism."

I sigh. "Okay, noted. So... can I refuse the inheritance or give the shares to someone else if things get too messy?"

Both of them look at me like I’ve just offered to give away a winning lottery ticket.

Dale folds his hands. "You can renounce the inheritance, but I wouldn’t advise doing that unless you’re absolutely certain. If you give away the shares, you might end up handing control to people Logan never wanted in charge."

Dahlia nods. "Exactly. Refusing would be unwise. Logan giving those to you means he trusted you the most even if you weren’t the best couple. And the remaining relatives? They weren’t involved with him or the company. You’d be giving them influence they neither earned nor deserve."

I pucker my lips. "So keeping everything is... the least chaotic option?"

"That’s one way to put it," Dale says with a small smile.

"And keep in mind, you don’t have to run the company. You’re becoming a shareholder, not the CEO. You can stay as passive as you want."

"Okay, but what does being a shareholder actually mean? In normal-people terms, please."

Dale smiles. "It means you’ll own a percentage of the company. You can attend board meetings if you want, but you’re not required to. You’ll vote on major decisions, get briefed on reports, and receive dividends if the company performs well."

"So I can exist quietly in the background and not accidentally crash the economy?"

"Absolutely."

I’m relieved.

While Dale continues explaining things, something flickers in the corner of my vision. I glance over just in time to catch Jean snapping her phone toward me, then lowering it just as quickly. She’s standing by the window, leaning casually with one hand in her pocket like she’s posing for a gritty crime thriller.

She’s the only bodyguard inside my apartment. I don’t know who made the rules, probably Jean. I’m still a woman, after all. She must have thought I’d find it uncomfortable to have male bodyguards surrounding me closely 24/7.

The rest are stationed at the door, outside the building, or in the car monitoring CCTV feeds like I’m a museum artifact that must never be smudged.

It’s excessive. Wildly excessive. But apparently, this is my new normal.

My phone suddenly buzzes.

Greg: If you need a lawyer, I can refer you to a reliable one or someone from my own legal team. Don’t pick someone randomly.

My eyes narrow.

Don’t pick someone randomly.

Huh. Interesting choice of words.

Does he... know I’m literally sitting here with a lawyer?