I want to check out the den.

Of course, you are not a paralegal for nothing. You know that these rich people, especially the uber-rich like Mr. Hewitt, will have some sort of office or den in which they do all of their work and conferences and what not.

You locate it on the first floor, in the far corner of the house.

Like all of the other rooms, it's massive, full of expensive shit like dinosaur skeletons, ancient Native American hand-woven blankets and carved marble Roman statues, with a huge stone fireplace, dark mahogany inlaid floors, exposed beams and rich leather furniture.

And a desk!

You start riffling through the desk.

Just then you notice the desk chair. Is that a...

A dildo?

You examine it. Yes, there is, indeed, a big black phallus sticking up from the middle of the chair. Worse, it's on a bit of a ridge going front-to-back, which meant that whoever sat on it would have this huge rubber dick thrust up their ass.

Right there, on his office chair.

What were those buttons?

Experimentally, you press one. The dildo starts to vibrate!

You press another.

The dildo starts to thrust up and down.

Quickly you hit "off" and the depraved furniture appendage slows to a stop.

Oh god, you think, eyes wide. What must that feel like? Your nipples tingle like they need to be pinched.

Did it show? you wonder. While he was on zoom calls? Did he use it and did it show on his face?

Carefully avoiding the dildo, you open the desk drawers and start rifling through the contents.

Perfect! A folder which says "Last Will and Testament!"

But you open the folder to discover it's empty, except for one small note.