Corrupted Lies - Part 1! Duncan.

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Summary: Y/N attends their father's funeral before being revealed in the will reading that the family business has been left in her name.

A/N: So here it is, my new Duncan Shepherd series! Hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! :) Y/f/n = your first name, y/l/n = your last name.

Warning: mentions of family members' death, funerals.

Word count:1.742.



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Y/N, daughter to an eccentric businessman and millionaire, is left to pick up the pieces after your father's untimely death. You later learn about what and more importantly who your father was as you put the puzzle together. You didn't just inherit fame and fortune, you also inherited your father's dark secrets and enemies.

Your father has been dead now for over two weeks, and you still remember the phone call that you had to endure from the hospital, but something just didn't sit right. According to the doctors, he died of natural causes - a heart attack they stated - but he was fit and healthy. It just didn't make any sense to you.

You looked intensely at the reflection that peered back at you in the blacked-out windows of the limo. It was a reflection you no longer remembered anymore as your eyes shot to and fro different peculiarities on your small body and face. The intense purple bags under your eyes that were previously home to refreshed and reinvigorated eyes were now replaced by harsh, glazed ones, your once fresh face was now faded - your father's death was the cause of this physical change, and today was his funeral.

Ever since you learned about your father's death, you just knew something wasn't right; you didn't know what precisely but you were going to find out what, even if it killed you.

The limo abruptly pulled to a stop. Instants after the car pulled to a standstill, the long door on your side was opened quickly. You gradually pivoted your body around and plucked up enough strength and courage to step out of the low-seated car.

"Come on, y/n. I can't be waiting all day." Your step-mother barked sharply. You gawked at the woman, her rough palms planted powerfully on her hips as her black, straw-like locks stimulated the underside of her forearm as her piercing ocean blue orbs peered straight into your distant ones.

Of course, she can't wait - she's been dying to get her hands on my father's money since the day they met.

You accompanied the small gathering of people into the rustic, petite chapel as you walked through the foyer of the chapel to reveal lines upon lines of neatly rowed wooden pews, all of the same corresponding colour and size. At the end of the pews was a towering stained-glass window full of distinctive colours and patterns. The light rays gleamed gracefully through the unusual colours projecting them onto the floor; almost forcing them to blend into each other.

As you made your way to the front of the church, you noticed your father's casket; your eyes teared up even more as they now threatened to overspill. It was as beautiful as caskets go; it was a dark shade of wood, lined with a gold trim that streamed around the entire casket. This casket was picked specifically by him since your father took it upon himself to plan his funeral; this was a result of the shock of your mother's death and the unpreparedness that followed it, your father didn't want you to relive that again so he took it upon himself to arrange everything so it would be a quick and easy process for you and the people he would be leaving behind so you weren't lingering on his death longer than what you needed to.

As the surreal service started slowly, your mind raced in thought as you gazed in speculation about who would take over the family business; you were far too young to even run a small business, let alone an influential company like your father's but you did have the most experience when compared to your step-mother and several cousins. There was a possible but rather-slim chance that your father left his company in the will down to you, but that seemed rather unlikely the more you speculated it.

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