Wealth Without Him Rising from Betrayal (Grace Wilson) novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12

1 gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white. “And no one thought to call her?”

“We did,” the marketing director said, her voice small. “Repeatedly. She didn’t answer.

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The realization hit me like a freight train. While Grace had been fielding calls from my mother and brother yesterday, she’d missed crucial communications with the investors. Her work-her expertise-was what we needed.

“How bad is it? I finally asked.

My assistant slid another document toward me. Conservative estimate? We’re looking at a $90 million loss. And the IPO will likely be delayed at least six months.”

I stared at the numbers, fury and disbelief warring inside me. With a roar of frustration, I hurled my phone across the room, where it shattered against the wall.

“Get out,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “Everyone get out. And find the a solution by tomorrow morning.”

After they filed out, I sat alone in the conference room, a terrible realization dawning on me: I needed Grace far more than I’d been willing to admit.

I drove home in a daze, clutching the financial report like a death warrant When I pulled into the driveway of our family estate, I spotted my mother’s car. Perfect. We could address this family crisis all at once.

Inside, 1 found my mother and Jason in the living room. They looked up expectantly as I entered.

“Richard, darling,” my mother began, “I was just telling Jason that this nonsense with Grace has gone on long enough. That girl needs to-

“Stop.” I cut her off, dropping the financial report on the coffee table between us. “Do you have any idea what your ‘nonsense’ has cost us?”

“I beg your pardon?” My mother’s voice went ice-cold.

“While Grace was busy fielding calls from you two yesterday-calls demanding she drop everything to cook-she missed crucial communications with our biggest investors.” I jabbed my finger at the report. “Three major backers pulled out of our IPO today. Ninety million dollars, gone. Years of work, potentially wasted.”

Jason paled. “But it’s just dinner-

It’s not just dinner!” I shouted. “Grace isn’t your personal chef! She’s a key executive in our company, handling deals worth millions while you’re complaining about your damn steak!”

Richard. My father’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

I turned, surprised. My father, Holden Harrison, rarely involved himself in family squabbles. He preferred to remain in his study, managing the broader Harrison investments and leaving the company to me.

He crossed the room slowly, picked up the financial report, and reviewed with practiced efficiency.

“Enough,” he said quietly. “This isn’t some petty family drama. This is about the future of our family legacy.”

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Chapter 12

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He turned to my mother and Jason, his expression severe. “Margaret, Jason you’ve directly interfered with business matters, and it’s cost us dearly.”

My mother scoffed. “Holden, surely you’re not suggesting-”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m stating facts.” He tapped the report. “Your harassment of Grace has cost this family ninety million dollars. Until you both apologize to her-sincerely-there will be consequences.”

“Consequences?” My mother laughed incredulously. “What could you possibly-

“Margaret, your access to the Beverly Hills property is suspended. Jason, your quarterly trust fund payment is frozen.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“You can’t do that, my mother finally whispered.

“I can and I have. My father’s voice was firm. “When you both apologize to Grace and she accepts, your privileges will be restored.”

I watched this unfold with a strange mixture of satisfaction and unease. I never seen my father intervene like this before. It occurred to me that perhaps he valued Grace’s contributions more than I’d realized.

The video call that evening was excruciating to watch. My mother sat rigid beside me, her face a mask of forced politeness as Grace’s image appeared on screen.

“Grace, my mother said mechanically, “I would like to apologize for my behavior. It was… inconsiderate of me to demand your attention when you were working.”

Grace’s expression remained neutral. “Thank you, Margaret.”

Jason went next, tears of humiliation welling in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Grace I didn’t know you were busy with important stuff.”

“I appreciate the apology, Jason,” Grace replied evenly. “Thank you both for reaching out. I need some time to consider everything, but I hear your apologies.”

The call ended, and my mother immediately stood up, her face contorted with rage.

“That condescending little bitch,” she hissed. “Who does she think she is? perfume mixer who married up? She’ll pay for this humiliation.”

I watched as she stormed out of the room.

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