The Millionaire's Tainted Legacy

Past and Present

Tito stood rooted to the floor as the woman Miles had addressed as Eleanor escorted the lawyer to the door, overriding his protests.

His grandmother?  Tito had met his mother's parents only a few times briefly during his childhood. They had never forgiven their only daughter for the sin - in their eyes - of becoming an unwed mother. She'd felt it important that Tito and Maria meet them, and those brief encounters had been uncomfortable to say the least. When she'd married his stepfather, Tito's mom had abandoned all attempts at reconciling with her own parents. She'd given them the chance to forgive and move on, and that was all she was willing to do.

They had shown up at the funeral for his stepfather, still stiff and unforgiving, and when Tito heard a few years later that they had also passed away, he didn't waste any time grieving. At any rate, they were gone now. And they certainly had  never lived in a mansion like this.

Which could only mean . . .

His face hardened at Eleanor came back into the room.

"I apologize for the all the mystery in my arrangements to meet with you," she said as she approached him. "I was afraid if you knew who was behind the Trust, you might refuse to see me."

Tito nodded, and asked the only question that was on his mind.

"Why now?"

"As I assume you've guessed already, Bradford Thornton - your biological father - was my son. You're aware that he died recently in a plane crash?"

Tito nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Thornton. But it's not relevant to me. He was never my father."

"I understand that."

She extended her hand and he found that although it looked frail with age, she had a surprisingly strong grip.

"It's time I formally introduced myself. My name is Eleanor Bancroft Thornton, and I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to finally meet you."

"Mrs. Thornton-" Tito began.

"Eleanor, please."

"Eleanor. Under the circumstances, Eleanor, I find that a little difficult to believe. It's not like I've been hard to locate over the past 27 years. Especially since I spent 8 of them in prison. So I ask you again, why now?" He released her hand and stared at her as a thought occurred to him. "Is it that now that your son has died you have no remaining family and I'm slightly better than nothing?"

"Of course not." Anger flashed in her eyes, and was as quickly quelled. She took a deep breath. "I can't blame you for thinking that, but I'm hoping the manners your mother raised you with will incline you to at least give me a chance to explain."

Tito felt a hot ball of anger forming in the pit of his stomach, but managed to keep his voice even. "You know nothing about my mother."

"On the contrary," Eleanor said, "your mother was a lovely young woman, and I thought very highly of her."

"That's a joke."

"I'm sorry you think so."

"How lovely do you think it was for my mother working two minimum wage jobs without even a high school education after her parents threw her out?" He was surprised how bitter it still made him feel, the things that happened so long ago. And the woman standing in front of him now who, despite her obviously extreme wealth, had done nothing to help.  How dare she stand here now and tell him what a lovely young woman his mother was?

"They sent her away to have the babies," Tito continued, his voice going cold, "but when she refused to sign adoption papers they were too ashamed of her to let her come home again. Heaven forbid someone in the parish find out their daughter had not one but two illegitimate babies. She was on her own. Where were you, Grandmother?"