Boston Mother Cancels Twenty Two Million Dollar Wedding Gift After Morning Betrayal
The lobby was entirely silent. The receptionist was looking down at her desk, her fingers hovering over her keyboard as if she were afraid to make a sound.
I turned back toward Avery’s office. He was standing in the doorway, his leather binder in his hand.
“They are going to run the story anyway,” he said.
“Let them run it,” I said. “We have work to do.”
We went back into his private office. The afternoon was fading, the sky outside the window turning from gray to a deep, bruised purple.
Avery set the red leather binder of my estate plan on the desk between us.
“If we do this, Beatrice, there is no turning back,” Avery said, his voice slow and heavy.
He opened the binder to the section marked Beneficiary Allocations.
“This is the draft of the exclusion clause,” he said. “It removes Michael completely from the trust, the real estate holding company, and the personal estate.”
“He will receive nothing?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Avery said. “Every asset, including the Beacon Hill townhouse and the Broad Street building, will be transferred to a new vehicle.”
