Chapter 3 - Blood and BetrayalAlexander turned his gaze from Madeline to Grace. The air in the library felt thick, almost impossible to breathe.
"Grace?" Alexander asked, his voice cracking slightly. "What is she talking about?"
Grace’s hands trembled so violently she had to set her coffee cup down on the mantelpiece to keep from shattering it. She looked at Alexander—at the hard lines of his jaw, the eyes that mirrored his father’s, the man she had secretly loved for nearly a decade while hiding in the shadows of his sprawling estate.
"She’s lying," Grace whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.
"Am I?" Madeline laughed, straining against the handcuffs. "Look at her face, Alexander! Ask her why a woman with a Master’s degree in forensic accounting from London School of Economics spent nine years scrubbing your floors and emptying your trash cans!"
Alexander froze. He stared at Grace, his mind racing backward through the years.
How she always knew where the private ledger was kept. How she instinctively understood corporate tax structures when they occasionally spoke in the hallway. How she had managed to slip into his mother’s private study when every biometric lock on the estate was coded exclusively for family members.
"You... you have an LSE degree?" Alexander asked, his voice dangerously quiet. "You told me you dropped out of community college in New Jersey."
"I lied," Grace said, her voice dropping to a whisper as a single tear traced down her cheek. "I had to."
"Why?" Alexander demanded, slamming his hand onto the desk. The sound echoed like a gunshot through the cavernous library. "Why were you living in my house under a false name, Grace?"
"Because my real name is Grace Vance," she said, lifting her chin to meet his furious gaze.
Senator Prescott suddenly stepped back, his eyes widening in sudden, absolute terror. "Vance? As in... Arthur Vance?"
Alexander’s eyes narrowed. "Arthur Vance? The man who was framed for embezzling from Mercer Global thirty years ago? The man my father drove to suicide in a prison cell?"
"My father didn't kill himself," Grace said, her voice turning to ice. "Your father murdered him, Alexander. And when your mother found the proof locked in the estate safe three months ago, she didn't call the police. She hired me to help her find out if you were involved."
The room spun. Alexander gripped the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white.
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"My mother... hired you?"
"She knew I was looking for revenge," Grace nodded, stepping forward despite the danger radiating from him. "She expected me to expose your family, destroy Mercer Global, and ruin everything you built. But instead... I fell in love with you."
