Chapter 3
Grace's POV
After breakfast, I stood in the garage with my keys in hand.
"We should ride together today," Richard insisted, moving to block my car door. "We can discuss the fragrance marketing strategy for next quarter."
His tone was pleasant, but his eyes were watchful. He seemed to sense something wasn't right.
"I'm meeting with the essential oil suppliers this morning," I replied, the lie coming easily. "It needs to be a private conversation."
His brow furrowed. "Where are you meeting? When will it end? I can pick you up."
I forced myself to smile. "Downtown, it won't take long."
Before I could move around him, Richard stepped forward and embraced me. His cologne—the one I'd created specifically for him—filled my nostrils, making me want to gag.
"Drive safely," he murmured against my hair. "Call me when you're done."
I nodded against his chest, keeping my expression neutral as we separated. The moment he turned away, I let the disgust show on my face.
William's office exuded old money and discretion, his piercing eyes seemed to evaluate my every movement.
"According to inheritance law and the structure of the Wilson family trust," William explained, "as Robert Wilson's biological daughter, you have priority inheritance rights."
I examined the legal documents spread across his polished mahogany desk. "So my stepmother and her adopted son can't prevent me from inheriting?"
"Robert's trust explicitly protects the rights of blood heirs," William confirmed. "But Elizabeth Wilson is a formidable woman with significant influence in Starport. She and Andrew will fight this with everything they have."
"What exactly am I inheriting?" I asked.
"The majority shareholding in Wilson Holdings Group, the family estate, and personal assets totaling approximately forty-two billion dollars."
I tried to wrap my mind around the number. It seemed unreal.
"The DNA test results have confirmed your identity, but there are still legal procedures to complete." William pushed several documents toward me. "These initial forms will give you immediate access to a portion of the trust."
I signed where indicated, feeling strangely calm.
"What should I expect?" I asked after signing all the documents.
William's expression grew serious. "Tread carefully, Ms. Wilson. Elizabeth has built powerful connections over the years. She won't surrender control without a fight. I suggest you immediately begin establishing your position within the group."
I nodded, knowing how much danger and challenge was buried in this inheritance. But now what I needed to do was leave Richard's home.
I thought of Richard's two million dollar transfer, and I knew exactly what to do with that money.
The Riverside Estates penthouse had everything a newly minted heiress could want—four thousand square feet of luxury overlooking Starport's glittering skyline. The real estate agent couldn't stop fawning over me once I mentioned I'd be paying cash.
"I want this penthouse," I told her.
As she prepared the paperwork, the elevator doors opened, and a woman stormed in with two assistants trailing behind her.
"Where's the sales manager?" she demanded loudly. "I specifically said I wanted to be notified when the penthouse became available!"
I immediately recognized Samantha Davidson from society pages—the spoiled daughter of Starport's clothing manufacturing dynasty.
The assistant looked flustered. "Ms. Davidson, I'm so sorry, but we're just finalizing the sale of the penthouse to this client."
Samantha turned to me, her eyes narrowing as she took in my still-bandaged forehead and the stain on my sleeve that hadn't quite come out.
"You're selling to her?" she asked incredulously. "I've been interested in this property for two months! Do you know who I am?"
"Samantha Davidson of Davidson Clothing," the agent acknowledged nervously. "But our policy is first come, first served for qualified buyers."
"Qualified?" Samantha scoffed, giving me a dismissive once-over. "Who are you supposed to be?"
I met her gaze calmly. "Please continue with my paperwork."
"You can't be serious," Samantha snapped. "You're challenging my family's authority, you..."
She was interrupted by the agent's ringing phone. The woman answered, her expression changing dramatically as she listened.
"Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Right away." She hung up and suddenly regarded me with newfound reverence. "Ms. Wilson, please forgive any inconvenience. I've just been informed that you have absolute priority for this purchase. We'll expedite your paperwork immediately."
Samantha's jaw dropped. "Wilson? Why are you using that name? You can't possibly be connected to the Wilsons."
The elevator doors opened again, revealing an imposing older man in an impeccable suit, flanked by security personnel.
"I am Barry Smith, the Wilson family's chief butler," he announced formally. "Ms. Wilson, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Samantha obviously recognized Barry, her expression constantly changing as Barry continued.
"Grace Wilson is the biological daughter of Robert Wilson and the sole blood heir to the Wilson family legacy," he stated, his voice carrying across the now-silent room.
Samantha took several steps backward, her expression a mixture of shock and fear.
Barry turned to her with cool professionalism. "Ms. Davidson, I believe an apology to Ms. Wilson would be appropriate."
Samantha opened and closed her mouth several times but seemed unable to form words.
"I'm... I'm sorry," Samantha dropped these words before immediately fleeing the scene.
I glanced at Samantha's humiliated departure, then back at Barry. For the first time in days, I felt something like satisfaction.
"Ms. Wilson," Barry said, turning back to me, "we'll handle things here. The car is already waiting outside, please come with me."
"Where to?" I asked.
"The Wilson Manor."
