The Cordain mansion, long an island of ornate clutter and inherited grief, seemed to hold its breath on the morning of the reading. Light drifted through the high windows, touching photographs that told the story of a family bound by old wounds and unfinished arguments.
Monica’s presence, though gone, lingered — in the faint scent of her perfume and the quiet stillness that seemed to follow every footstep. One by one, the family gathered, wearing the familiar masks of grief, entitlement, and suspicion. Even the furniture, worn by generations, seemed to brace for revelation.
Veronica’s Arrival
When Veronica “Ronnie” Bard entered, the air shifted.
She arrived in a coat the color of storm clouds — an armor against both the cold and the judgment she knew awaited her. Ned Quartermaine, who had arranged the reading, greeted her with a stiff politeness that failed to disguise guilt.
Ronnie wasted no time. She announced she would read Monica’s will herself. Her tone was firm, controlled, the kind of voice that made defiance sound like procedure. Ned hesitated, citing legal formalities and family tradition, but Ronnie only smiled. She understood the traditions — and she had every intention of bending them.
The Reading Begins
When the envelope was opened, the air grew taut. The document seemed ordinary enough — sealed, official, and heavy with expectation.
Ronnie read the first lines aloud, the familiar preamble of affection and remembrance. But when she reached the section naming the heir, the room fell into disbelief.
Monica’s entire estate — the mansion, heirlooms, and all holdings — had been left to Veronica Bard.
Shock rippled through the family.
Tracy’s outrage burst forth first, followed by Michael’s stunned silence and Ned’s trembling disbelief. Jason Morgan stood still, expression unreadable, already calculating what lay beneath the surface.
Suspicion and the Seeds of Betrayal
Tracy refused to accept the verdict. She demanded to see the will, certain it was forged. To her, Monica would never leave the Cordain legacy to an outsider.
Martin Gray, serving as Ronnie’s counsel, assured everyone the document was legitimate, executed with proper witnesses. His calm, practiced delivery only deepened the family’s unease.
Jason, ever the silent observer, noticed inconsistencies. The phrasing felt cold and formal — not Monica’s usual warmth. Her will had always carried traces of humor, affection, or humanity. This one read like a press release.
Diane’s Examination
At Jason’s suggestion, Diane Miller was called in to examine the will.
Her eyes scanned the pages with precision. She traced Monica’s signature, then looked up — her silence louder than any accusation. Finally, she spoke softly:
“There’s something off.”
The room froze. Diane requested more time to study it, but her doubt alone was enough to ignite suspicion. Tracy accused Ronnie and Martin of fraud. The tension in the mansion rose like static before a storm.
When Diane finally confirmed that the signature did not appear authentic, the revelation shattered whatever calm remained. Gasps, accusations, and disbelief filled the air. Ronnie’s cool confidence wavered for the first time, and Martin’s composure cracked.
The Fallout
The will reading — meant to bring closure — became the spark for a family war.
Old resentments flared, alliances shifted, and the Cordain legacy hung in question. Jason, sensing deceit, vowed to uncover the truth. Diane retained the document for further analysis, while the rest of the family scattered through the mansion’s echoing halls — each carrying a different shade of anger, doubt, or guilt.
Outside, Port Charles continued its usual rhythm, unaware of the storm that had just been unleashed inside the Cordain estate.
Inside, secrets had been exposed, and one truth was clear: nothing about Monica’s last will was as it seemed.
A Family Divided
Tracy’s fury hardened into resolve.
Michael stood torn between justice and family loyalty.
Ronnie and Martin — once confident conspirators — now faced the chilling reality that deception has a way of turning on its creators.
Jason’s quiet determination promised that this was only the beginning. Somewhere, the real will still existed — and the truth, however buried, would not stay hidden for long.