The Nation's President Picked Me Up From Prison-Chapter 31: Elyn: A Massive, Unwanted Responsibility

I don’t want to trouble Greg or his staff by making them hunt down a dress for me, not when I can do it myself, but he offered, and it felt wrong to refuse.

Besides, I liked the last dress he bought. It fit me beautifully and made me feel like I belonged somewhere I didn’t.

And in our contract, he is supposed to provide everything I need while we’re married. So... I guess this counts as part of the agreement, not indulgence. That’s what I tell myself, at least, while lying on the bed and watching him from the corner of my eye.

He’s still sitting on his side, back straight, reading a classic novel that looks like it was printed before either of us existed. Five decades ago, at least. His taste suits him—old-world, composed, a little untouchable.

The room is quiet except for the sound of pages turning and my own breathing. My exhaustion creeps over me slowly, then all at once. I was out the entire day, and by the time I close my eyes, my thoughts melt into sleep.

* * *

Greg is gone when I wake up, the sheets on his side cool, the room back to its usual restrained stillness.

By midmorning, I’m leaving the mansion with my security to meet the Hansley family’s legal team. Just the thought of it makes my stomach coil tight. Part anxiety, part curiosity.

I’m thinking it could be related to Logan’s death, that’s why I consulted a lawyer yesterday, just in case.

"Hello, Miss Elyn," Humprey greets me the moment I’m escorted inside a private room of a hotel. He’s the head of Logan’s legal team, someone I’ve seen in the past because he worked a lot with my father and Logan.

"Hello," I reply, keeping my face still, trying to pretend I’m as composed.

Three other lawyers sit with him. I don’t know which of them worked for Candice and Cora, the ones who sabotaged my marriage.

It doesn’t matter. None of them matter anymore.

Humphrey clears his throat and starts speaking.

"As you know, we’re here to discuss Mr. Hansley’s last will, and... certain legal matters regarding your marriage to him."

He glances at me, gauging my reaction. When he mentions the discovery—that Logan and I were never legally married—he pauses, waiting for shock, for tears, for anything showy and dramatic.

But I’m simply... still.

Surprised, yes. But not at the fact that my marriage wasn’t real, but at how they know.

"You don’t seem very shocked," he finally says, eyebrows lifting.

I release a slow breath. "Because I already know."

His eyes widen a fraction, but he doesn’t press.

"If you’re here to make it clear that I won’t receive anything from Logan’s assets or money because we were never legally married, that’s totally fine with me." I offer him a small, sincere smile. "I don’t plan to dispute it. I’m not after Logan’s money."

The room goes silent. One of the junior lawyers blinks at me, as if unsure how to respond to a widow who isn’t fighting over inheritance.

But inside, my thoughts begin to drift, to the company Logan left behind. His empire. No one is leading it now. He’s gone. Candice and Cora are in jail. And the board... they must be in chaos.

So who will take over?

A face flickers in my mind. Someone who might be able to help.

But I haven’t heard from him in years. And when I asked Dahlia to reach out while I was in prison, he never responded. Not a single word.

He’s probably on the other side of the world, untouched by the storms happening here.

Maybe that’s what he wants. To stay gone.

I sit back, hands folded neatly in my lap, trying not to let the lawyers see the small ache forming behind my ribs.

"That is not the case, Miss Elyn," Humphrey says gently, as though bracing me for a blow from the opposite direction. "Actually, the main reason for this meeting is to inform you that Mr. Hansley included you in his last will."

He reaches into his leather bag, pulling out several documents.

I frown, confused. "He... what?"

Humphrey places the papers in front of me and clears his throat.

"It’s stated here that you will be given the following: his company shares in Hansley Group, totaling forty-five percent, the townhouse in Villa Apollo, several other properties in the city, and financial assets amounting to three billion."

My brain doesn’t react at first. Then—

What on the freaking earth?

I blink at him. Then at the paper. Then at him again.

Did I just hear that correctly?

Logan is giving all of that to me?

"Are you—" I swallow, my voice catching. "Are you serious?"

"We are, Miss Elyn," another lawyer answers, adjusting his glasses. "These allocations were notarized and filed six months prior to his passing."

I stare at the list, feeling like it’s written in an ancient language.

Why would Logan do this?

He didn’t know we weren’t legally married, that much I’m sure of. But that still doesn’t explain the scale of it.

Logan and I cared for each other, yes, but ours wasn’t love. We barely acted like a married couple. We hardly shared a bed, and when we did, nothing ever happened. No passion, no spark, no kind of romance people write about.

So why... this?

"Did he ever mention to you why he wanted things arranged this way?" I ask, looking from lawyer to lawyer. "Anything at all?"

Humphrey shakes his head. "No, Miss. He arranged everything privately, and we only discovered the will through his late father’s former lawyer."

Another lawyer, a younger woman with sharp eyes, adds, "We were as surprised as you are. However, we must consider the fact that Mr. Hansley thought you were his legal spouse when he decided to give you this inheritance."

I close my eyes briefly, trying to steady myself.

Maybe he felt responsible for me. Maybe he saw me as family, at least enough to want to secure a future for me.

That must be it. Something simple. Something logical.

Humphrey continues, "Mr. Hansley also left monetary allowances and a few minor properties for Mrs. Candice and Ms. Cora, but... it is nowhere near what’s assigned to you."

Great.

So freaking great.

I now have access to unimaginable wealth, and absolutely zero idea what to do with it.

I exhale slowly, hands clasped tightly in my lap. "What am I supposed to do with forty-five percent of a company? I don’t know how to run anything, let alone a big corporation."

Humphrey exchanges a cautious look with the others. "That brings us to the next matter. Hansley Group is currently in a state of disarray. Without the chairman and without a major shareholder present, the board can’t move forward on critical decisions."

"So... it’s chaos," I say flatly.

"In a manner of speaking." He nods. "You will need to prepare for a shareholders’ meeting. The company must decide on an interim leader or a permanent chairperson. And since you hold majority shares, your presence and vote are essential."

My pulse stutters. "You’re telling me I have to attend a board meeting of businessmen who probably hate my guts?"

"They don’t hate you," the younger woman says kindly. "They’re simply... confused. And anxious. Companies of this size cannot operate without direction."

Another lawyer clears his throat. "Most likely, they will ask for your stance. Whether you intend to take over the role or appoint someone to do so in your place."

I nearly choke. "Take over? Me? No. Absolutely not. I can’t run a company."

"No one expects you to, Miss Elyn," Humphrey reassures me. "But your decisions will influence the future of Hansley Group. And the sooner the meeting is scheduled, the better."

I stare at the papers again, the letters blurring.

This isn’t just an inheritance. It’s responsibility.

A massive, unwanted, impossible responsibility.