Chapter 8 - The Last Thing Richard Mercer Expected
The attempted abduction destroyed Richard's remaining control.
One attacker was arrested forty-eight hours later.
He worked for a private security contractor linked to Hartwell.
His attorney negotiated.
Records followed.
Payments.
Messages.
Orders.
Richard Mercer was arrested on charges connected to fraud, conspiracy, witness intimidation, and financial crimes. Investigators separately reopened questions surrounding the decades-old crash, though proving direct criminal responsibility for Thomas Westbrook's death remained uncertain.
Sloane was not arrested.
Not initially.
She claimed ignorance.
Caleb did not believe her.
Grace wasn't sure.
Then investigators found the birthday-party security footage.
Not the ballroom footage.
A recording from the service hallway twenty minutes before Lily entered.
Sloane was speaking on the phone.
“Grace is here tonight,” she said. “I'll handle her.”
A pause.
“No, she doesn't know about the trust.”
Another pause.
Then:
“After the wedding, Caleb signs the merger. Once that's done, fire her.”
Grace watched without expression.
Caleb shut off the screen.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“And Lily's gift?”
Grace swallowed.
“She wasn't angry about the gift.”
“No.”
“She was angry I entered the room.”
Caleb looked at her.
Grace finally understood.
Sloane's cruelty had been strategic.
Keep Grace ashamed.
Keep her invisible.
Make her believe she had no right to occupy space.
It had almost worked.
Grace sat straighter.
“When is the shareholder meeting?”
“Friday.”
“I want to attend.”
Caleb smiled faintly.
“I thought you might.”
Friday morning, Grace entered Westbrook Technologies headquarters wearing an emerald-green dress.
She chose the color because Lily liked it.
The boardroom contained executives who once would have mistaken her for staff.
Nobody did now.
The original trust was authenticated.
Richard's authority was terminated.
Grace's shares transferred under her control.
She could sell them.
At their current value, she would never need to work another day.
Instead, Grace stood.
“I have one condition before voting on any restructuring.”
Caleb listened.
“Westbrook's lowest-paid employees receive profit-sharing eligibility.”
Several directors exchanged looks.
Grace continued.
“And a childcare assistance fund.”
One director objected.
“This is a technology company, not a charity.”
Grace looked at him.
“Then calculate the cost of replacing experienced employees who leave because they can't afford childcare.”
Silence.
Nathan grinned.
Caleb said, “Run the numbers.”
They did.
Grace's proposal passed.
After the meeting, Caleb found her alone in the hallway.
“You're terrifying.”
“I learned from rich people.”
He laughed.
Then his expression softened.
“Are you going back to the estate?”
“I don't think so.”
His smile disappeared.
Grace continued before he could speak.
“I love the staff. But I need to figure out what comes next.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
She laughed.
“At least you're honest.”
Caleb stepped closer.
“Grace, I meant what I said. You don't owe me anything.”
“I know.”
“That includes staying.”
“I know.”
“And whatever happens between us—”
“Caleb.”
He stopped.
Grace looked up at him.
“I said I was trying not to love you.”
His breath caught.
“How's that going?”
“Badly.”
Then she kissed him.
It was not dramatic.
No orchestra.
No applause.
No ballroom.
Just two people standing in a quiet corporate hallway after the strangest week of their lives.
Caleb touched her cheek.
Grace pulled back.
“This does not mean you're allowed to become unbearable.”
“I've been told I'm already unbearable.”
“Good. Saves time.”
That night, they told Lily nothing complicated.
She climbed onto Caleb's lap and demanded pancakes.
“At night?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Your mother will say no.”
Grace entered the kitchen.
“Your mother says absolutely no pancakes at ten-thirty.”
Lily whispered loudly, “Ask nice.”
Caleb looked at Grace.
“Please?”
Grace stared at both of them.
“You're supposed to be a terrifying billionaire.”
“Market closes at four.”
Twenty minutes later, all three ate pancakes.
For the first time in years, Caleb's enormous house felt like a home.
Then the doorbell rang.
Sloane stood outside.
Alone.
She looked exhausted.
No makeup.
No designer coat.
No ring.
“I need to speak to Grace.”
Caleb said no.
Grace said yes.
They sat in the library.
Sloane stared at Lily's journal on the desk.
“I hated that thing.”
Grace said nothing.
“Not because it was cheap.”
“I know.”
Sloane looked at her.
“I saw how Caleb looked at you.”
“He barely noticed me then.”
“That was worse.”
Grace frowned.
Sloane's voice cracked.
“You remembered him.”
The simple sentence carried more truth than anything Sloane had said.
“I knew his schedule, his investors, his preferred restaurants, his political donations. You knew he liked paper.”
Grace felt no triumph.
Only sadness.
Sloane reached into her purse.
Caleb tensed.
She removed a flash drive.
“My father kept another ledger.”
She placed it down.
“This proves everything.”
“Why give it to us?”
Sloane looked toward the engagement ring sitting in a small box on Caleb's shelf.
“Because my father told me yesterday that losing me was an acceptable cost.”
Her eyes filled.
“And I finally understood that I learned that sentence from him.”
She stood.
At the door, Grace stopped her.
“Sloane.”
Sloane turned.
“What you did to Lily was cruel.”
“I know.”
“I won't pretend it didn't happen.”
“I wouldn't believe you if you did.”
Grace nodded.
“But you can still decide what kind of person you become after this.”
Sloane looked at her for a long moment.
Then left.
Caleb examined the drive.
“What now?”
May you like
Grace took his hand.
“Now we finish it.”
