Lies and Weddings(101)
“Damn right I will. It’s called the Luis Felipe, for fuck’s sake!”
“—but all these assets are to remain the property of the trust and cannot be divested. Your father also empowered the trust to make decisions on your monthly disbursement—”
“Disbursement? The fuck is that?”
“It’s similar to an allowance, to be determined by the board of trustees. After consulting with the board members, most of whom are in this room right now, we’ve determined that starting this month, you’ll be provided with a disbursement of two hundred fifty thousand dollars, in US currency.”
“Two hundred fifty thousand dollars a day?”
“Per month.”
Luis Felipe almost leapt out of his chair, startling his serval. “You must be fuckin’ kidding me! I could spend that in an hour! That’s not even one decent watch, or one night’s bottle service at—”
Diego continued in a calm tone, “Your disbursement will be revisited on a biannual basis, or quarterly if economic circumstances change, until you attain the age of thirty-five.”
“What happens when I’m thirty-five?”
“The trust will be dissolved and you will be in full control of all the trust’s assets.”
“Thirty-five is a friggin’ lifetime away—”
“There is one important clause of the trust that you need to understand. Everything—the continued use of all the properties, automobiles, yacht, and plane, and your monthly disbursement—will be contingent on your entering a twelve-step program at one of the approved facilities on this list.”
Jane slid a sheet of paper with a list of all the five-star rehabs in the world across the table toward Luis Felipe.
“The Hills, Kusnacht Practice, Promises, Paracelsus, is this some kind of joke?” Luis Felipe looked around the room and laughed contemptuously. “Fucking hell, I’m being punk’d right now, aren’t I? Is there a camera hidden somewhere, behind that chalkboard maybe?”
“There are no cameras in this room and that’s not a chalkboard—it’s a Cy Twombly! We are being one hundred percent serious. You’re only twenty-three and you’ve already had acute pancreatitis twice and almost overdosed numerous times. Your father has been so concerned for your welfare—” Jane began.
“Really? Where the fuck’s he been my whole life?”
Emile chimed in, trying to defuse the tension. “Look here, your papa wants to ensure you live to a ripe old age to enjoy all the fruits of his labor.”
Luis Felipe glared at the men and women around him. He balled up the paper in his fist and threw it at his serval, which caught it in its mouth and started to chew on it. “This is such bullshit! There’s no way in hell I’m going to rehab again, especially not Paracelsus. Did you know their sushi chef is fuckin’ Albanian? I demand to see the will!”
“There’s no will, Luis Felipe. The trust circumvents the need for any will. This way things remain completely sealed and private, as your father wanted it,” Diego replied firmly.
“Liar! My dad told me years ago that he had a will and I was getting everything! I’m his only son, for fuck’s sake.”
Jane jumped in, backing up Diego. “Billionaires don’t have wills—they have trusts, foundations, flow-through corporations, and other generational-wealth-sheltering tools at their disposal. Your father was constantly tinkering with his estate planning. His most recent amendments took place on the day he passed.”
“Wait a minute. He changed the trust the day he died? Isn’t that illegal? He was a fuckin’ Froot Loop by then!”
“He was very much compos mentis, I can assure you. I saw him myself on the day he passed,” Jane insisted.
“I see what’s happening here. You’re a bunch of fuckin’ thieves! You’re trying to cheat me out of what’s rightfully mine.”
Luis Felipe yanked hard on the leash of the cat, and it began to pee all over the conference table. “Good job, Special K!” Everyone backed away from the table as Luis Felipe got up. “I’m the sole heir to the estate of Rene Tan! This trust thing is a sham, and I demand full control of my father’s company! It’s my birthright!”
Emile tried to calm the situation. “Your papa is only looking out for your best interests. He spent his life building up all his various businesses and did not wish to see it all going down the toilet. He felt that you were not yet ready to assume the position—”
“Stop calling him my ‘papa,’ you creepy Nazi fuck! Do you know what position you can assume? You can go choke on your own balls upside down!” Luis Felipe raged, the veins bulging on his unnaturally thick neck. “I’m gonna hire the best fucking lawyers on the planet to sue each and every one of you until you have no assholes left and are shitting out of mold-infested colostomy bags! Fuck you all!”
Luis Felipe scooped Special K into his arms and stormed out of the room.
Jane exhaled audibly, looking around the table. “That went well…”
“Better than I was expecting, actually,” Thomas said.
“At least that mini-cheetah did not have very much urine to dispense,” Emile remarked.
Diego had the last word. “What the poor boy fails to realize is that his father already hired the best lawyers on the planet.”