Chapter Text
Emily Prentiss sat in a plush leather chair at the center of the room, her back straight and her hands folded neatly in her lap. The mahogany desk before her gleamed under the soft light of the law office, its surface impeccably polished and free of any clutter except for a single manila folder. Her eyes were fixed on that folder, knowing it contained the last words her father would ever speak to her.
The air in the room was thick with tension and barely concealed greed. Emily was acutely aware of the dozen or so people seated around her, each one a potential threat to her inheritance. They were a mixed bunch - close relatives, distant relatives she barely knew, business associates of her father's, and even a few faces she didn't recognise at all. But they all had one thing in common: the hungry look in their eyes as they waited for Mr. Green to begin reading Weston Prentiss’s will.
Among the gathered vultures, as Emily privately thought of them, sat her cousin Theresa. Even from across the room, Emily could feel the weight of Theresa's gaze. Their eyes met briefly, and she felt a familiar surge of dislike. Theresa, with her perfect posture and immaculate business suit, looked every bit the shark she was. The fact that she was here, among the other hopefuls, made Emily’s skin crawl. They had never gotten along, their relationship a mix of rivalry and personal animosity that had only grown more intense over the years.
Six months.
It had been six months since Weston
Prentiss passed away, leaving behind a legacy as vast and complex as the man himself. The delay in reading the will, Emily had been told, was due to the intricacies of her father's estate and the need to ensure all legal matters were in order before proceeding. But now, as she sat here in downtown DC, watching the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she couldn't help but feel that the wait had only prolonged her grief- and given the vultures more time to circle.
Mr. Green, her father's long-time lawyer and confidant, cleared his throat. He was a balding man in his sixties, with kind eyes hidden behind thick-rimmed glasses.
"Shall we begin?" he asked. The room fell silent, the tension ratcheting up another notch. Emily nodded, swallowing hard. The lump in her throat felt like it had been there for months, a constant reminder of the void her father's passing had left in her life.
"Yes, let's proceed," she managed to say.
As Mr. Green began to read, listing off minor bequests to various charities and distant relatives, Emily’s mind wandered to her parent’s home, the home her father had built from the ground up. It was more than just a house to her; it was her father's loving legacy.
For 2 decades, the house ‘Prentiss Manor’ her father had called it or mansion was more appropriate, had been home to her when she needed to get away from life, a place that felt like a safety net when she left Interpol and returned to her life as Emily Prentiss, she loved her parents, her mother was an ambassador who sadly passed away a few years ago and Emily believed her father just gave up after that, she tried to spend as much time with him as she could but being an FBI agent with the BAU took up a lot of her time. Now he was gone too and Emily was left with a piece of herself missing.
Emily was hardly a spoilt child growing up, but her parents made sure she had everything she needed. After years of moving around from place to place because of her mothers job, her parents finally settled in DC and her father decided he wanted to build her mother a home they could stay in forever, each room designed by him. He wasn’t just an architect, he saw himself more of an artist. Emily had her own wing in the house that he made sure catered to her ever changing style and needs. She loved the house so much she even stayed at home and went to college in the area when she turned 18 just so she didn’t have to leave. Memories of diplomatic parties hosted by her mother, dinners and movie nights with her parents, Christmas’s with all the family filled with laughter and love; it was about the stories behind the home, the moments of joy and connection that the home created. Something Emily was now lacking in her life.
She had spent the last year working with the Behavioural Analyst Unit at Quantico, a job she loved dearly but it meant time away from her father. After her mother had passed, she stayed with her father for a while but he was adamant she go back home eventually. He wanted her to find love and happiness like he had with her mother, to settle down and have a family. He always said Emily worked too hard and was missing out on all the little moments that made life special. He knew how important her job was to her but he wanted his daughter to be happy.
Mr. Green's voice brought her back to the present as he reached a crucial part of the will.
"And to my only child, my beloved daughter, Emily," he read, and she could feel every eye in the room turn to her.
"I leave my assets. I also leave her Prentiss Manor, with the following condition..."
Emily leaned forward slightly, her heart rate picking up. She had been expecting this moment, waiting to hear the words that would let her keep the home she loved so dearly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Theresa tense.
"The condition," Mr. Green continued, his voice steady,
"is that Emily must be married within six months of this will being read. If this condition is not met, Prentiss Manor will pass to her cousin, Theresa Johnson, Prentiss Manor is a family home and I wish for a family to stay there and fill it with love."
The words hit Emily like a physical blow. She blinked rapidly, certain she must have misheard. Around her, she could hear the soft murmur of surprise and speculation from the assembled group. Theresa's face, when Emily dared to glance at her, wore an expression of shocked delight.
"I'm sorry," Emily interrupted, her voice tight. "Could you repeat that last part?"
"Your father has stipulated that you must be married within six months to inherit Prentiss Manor. If you do not meet this condition, than the home will go to your cousin Theresa." Mr. Green cleared his throat.
"Your father believed strongly in family, Ms. Prentiss. He felt that Prentiss Manor should continue to be a family home, with parties, events and a family whose children can grow up there." He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"Weston was of the opinion that the home should be someone who not only understood love and commitment in theory but lived it in practice.”
Emily set her jaw as the implications of her father's decision sank in. The room around her buzzed with whispers and poorly concealed excitement at this unexpected turn of events. Her mind raced, processing this information while acutely aware of Theresa's triumphant smirk. She knew she had to respond, to show strength in the face of this challenge, but the shock of her father's stipulation left her momentarily speechless. Marriage? Within six months? And if not, Theresa gets the one thing that reminded her most of her parents? The one place she ever felt safe? Her mind reeled at the absurdity of it all.
She was all too aware of how others saw her - Emily Prentiss, the ice queen of DCs social scene. An enigma the family never understood, the secrets she had to keep when working undercover that she only ever shared with her father, the complicated life of the bureau and the politics surrounding her job that only her mother understood. At 36, she was known for her striking beauty: tall and slender, with sharp cheekbones, piercing brown eyes, and long, dark hair that she usually wore in a sleek ponytail. Her wardrobe was a carefully curated collection of designer pieces, each one selected to project an image of confidence. She was the woman who always had it together, who could chase down serial killers as easily as she could attend a charity gala. And how they loved to hate her for that.
Right now though, Emily felt anything but in control. Her carefully maintained composure threatened to crumble as the implications of her father's will sank in. She'd never been one for serious relationships. Her focus had always been on her career, on proving herself worthy of her mother’s legacy as an ambassador. She spent years with Interpol tracking down terrorists and the last year hunting serial killers with the BAU, She faced heartbreak losing her parents but stood tall and never let anyone get close.
She took a deep breath, and then, with a confidence she didn't feel, she let out a short, incredulous laugh.
"Well, in that case, it's lucky that I got engaged last week, isn't it?"
The room fell silent for another moment before erupting into a flurry of whispers. Theresa's triumphant smirk faltered, replaced by a look of disbelief. She let out a derisive snort.
"Oh, please. You expect us to believe that?"
Emily turned to face her cousin, her brown eyes flashing with defiance. Theresa had a point. Emily never dated and there was no reason for anyone to believe she was engaged. She painted on a smile to buy herself some time. Think, Emily. You're good at thinking out of the box. What's
your story?
"It's true, Theresa," she finally said when an idea formed in her head.
"My girlfriend asked for my hand, and I said
yes." She turned back to Mr. Green, her voice steady despite the rapid beating of her heart.
"I still think it's ridiculous that it's in the will, but as it won't affect me since I plan on getting married in the coming six months, I suppose it's just as well."
People gasped and Emily felt a little smug. This was brilliant and quite convincing even if she said so herself. No, she wasn't gay, but her family didn't know that. She could have been in the closet for years, right? Hiding her sexuality until she was forced to come out because of her father's will. That would explain why she'd never introduced anyone to her fiancée.
"Girlfriend?" Theresa's eyes narrowed, clearly not buying the story.
"Please. You're not even gay and besides,
where's your ring?"
"My relationship is my private business," Emily said.
"I wasn't planning on coming out - that's why I don't wear my ring to work or during family affairs, but it seems I have no choice." She shrugged.
"So yes, I'm gay. I have a girlfriend and we're getting married in April."
"Well, isn't that convenient." Theresa's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Congratulations, Emily. I'm looking forward to meeting this woman at the family Christmas gathering in Aspen." Her lips curved into a challenging smile.
"She is coming, right? Considering you're engaged now?"
Emily felt a moment of panic, but she kept her face carefully neutral.
"Of course she's coming," she replied
smoothly, meeting Theresa's gaze without flinching.
"She wouldn't miss it for the world."
The tension in the room was palpable as the two women stared each other down. The other attendees watched with bated breath, sensing the underlying current of hostility between the cousins.
Mr. Green cleared his throat, breaking the standoff.
"Well, if there are no further questions, I believe we can conclude the reading of the will."
As the meeting began to break up, Emily felt the weight of the lie settling on her shoulders. She had six months to make good on her claim, or risk losing her family home. As she gathered her things, she caught Theresa's eye one last time. Her cousin's expression was clear: the game was on, and Theresa was ready to call Emily’s bluff.