Chapter 11 - SHE REFUSED HIS MONEY
Grace hated cameras.
She hated the questions more.
“Grace! Did Mr. Whitmore force you to give him food?”
“Grace! Were you fired because of his test?”
“Did he know you were supporting a teenage brother?”
“How much did he pay you to remain silent?”
She had answered none of them.
She drove home through a side exit with a police escort because reporters blocked the road.
Evan was waiting outside their apartment.
Sixteen.
Tall.
Too skinny.
Dark hair falling over his forehead.
The moment he saw her, he ran.
“What happened?”
“I'm okay.”
“People online are saying some billionaire tricked you.”
Grace closed her eyes.
“Wonderful.”
“So it's true?”
“Partly.”
“Did he get you fired?”
“No.”
“Did he pretend to be homeless?”
“Yes.”
Evan stared.
“That’s insane.”
“Yes.”
“Did you give him my socks?”
Grace looked at him.
“How do you know about the socks?”
“It’s everywhere.”
She covered her face.
Evan started laughing.
Grace glared.
“This isn't funny.”
“You gave a billionaire my socks.”
“Stop.”
“Were they the blue ones?”
“Evan.”
“The blue ones are good socks.”
She threw her purse at him.
He caught it, still laughing.
And for thirty seconds, the nightmare became bearable.
Then someone knocked.
Grace went still.
Evan checked the peephole.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“The billionaire.”
Grace groaned.
Adrian stood outside without security.
No suit jacket.
Tie loosened.
Exhaustion beneath his eyes.
Grace opened the door halfway.
“No.”
“I haven't said anything.”
“I’m practicing.”
“I deserve that.”
“What do you want?”
“To apologize.”
“You already did.”
“Not properly.”
She looked down the hallway.
Reporters had not found the apartment yet.
If they did, Adrian standing there would guarantee chaos.
“Five minutes.”
She let him inside.
Evan stared openly.
Adrian looked at him.
“You must be Evan.”
“You wore my socks.”
Grace closed her eyes.
Adrian almost smiled.
“I did.”
“Did they fit?”
“Evan.”
“What?”
Adrian surprised her.
“They were comfortable.”
Evan nodded approvingly.
“Good.”
Grace pointed toward his bedroom.
“Go.”
“But—”
“Now.”
He disappeared reluctantly.
Grace faced Adrian.
“You have four minutes.”
Adrian removed an envelope.
She immediately frowned.
“No.”
“It contains the wages you're owed.”
“That’s different.”
She accepted it.
“The amount includes unpaid overtime and the illegal deductions we documented.”
“How much?”
“Just over nine thousand dollars.”
Her eyes widened.
“What?”
“You worked significantly more hours than you were paid for.”
“Nine thousand?”
“Yes.”
Grace sat down.
That was more money than she had saved in two years.
Adrian continued.
“There’s also a separate settlement offer.”
Her expression hardened.
“No.”
“Read it first.”
“No.”
“Grace.”
“If it's money for what happened with the disguise, no.”
“It isn't silence money.”
“Then what is it?”
“Compensation.”
“For being fooled?”
“For failures that occurred in my household.”
She pushed the second envelope back.
“Pay the people whose wages were stolen.”
“We are.”
“Pay Beth back for the vase.”
“We are.”
“Pay Maria.”
“We are.”
“Then use the rest to fix the system.”
Adrian stared.
“Grace, you lost your job.”
“I already have another one.”
“At the diner?”
“Yes.”
“You make less.”
“Yes.”
“You work longer hours.”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn't have to—”
She stood.
“That's where you keep getting it wrong.”
Adrian stopped.
“You think because you have money, you can decide what someone else should accept.”
He was silent.
Grace continued.
“You offered me five hundred dollars at the gate because money was the easiest thing you had to give.”
“That isn't fair.”
“No?”
She folded her arms.
“You were uncomfortable because I had helped you. So you tried to erase the discomfort by paying me.”
Adrian looked down.
She was right again.
He hated how often that happened.
“I don't want money for treating a person like a person,” Grace said.
“You didn't know I was pretending.”
“That doesn't change what I did.”
“No.”
“It changes what you did.”
That landed.
Adrian slowly put the envelope away.
“I’m sorry.”
Grace exhaled.
“I know.”
“No, I mean—”
“I know.”
For the first time, her voice softened.
“You're not the first rich man to make a bad decision.”
“Comforting.”
“You might be the first one who showed up at my apartment looking like a kicked dog afterward.”
Adrian actually laughed.
The sound surprised both of them.
Grace almost smiled.
Then his expression became serious.
“Malcolm leaked the footage.”
“You're sure?”
“We traced the access.”
“Why?”
“To destroy credibility before we could expose him.”
“Did it work?”
Adrian looked at his phone.
“Whitmore Global lost three billion dollars in market value this afternoon.”
Grace blinked.
“Three billion?”
“On paper.”
“That phrase is doing a lot of work.”
He gave a tired smile.
“The board meets tomorrow.”
“Are they firing you?”
“They may try.”
Grace sat.
“Can they?”
“It's complicated.”
“Meaning yes.”
“Meaning they can make my life unpleasant.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe you'll finally know what working for Lydia felt like.”
He looked at her.
Grace winced.
“That was mean.”
“No.”
Adrian nodded.
“It was accurate.”
Silence settled.
Then Grace asked, “Why did you really do it?”
“The disguise?”
“Yes.”
He took a long breath.
“I wanted to prove Malcolm wrong.”
Her expression changed.
“He said people feared me more than respected me.”
“And instead you proved him right.”
“Yes.”
She studied him.
“That's rough.”
He smiled bitterly.
“Yes.”
Grace looked toward Evan’s room.
“My mother used to say finding out you're wrong is expensive.”
Adrian looked around the small apartment.
“I imagine she didn't mean three billion dollars.”
“No.”
Grace smiled.
“But maybe the principle applies.”
Another knock sounded.
Grace froze.
This one was louder.
Evan opened his door.
“Grace?”
“Stay there.”
She checked the peephole.
Two men in suits.
Adrian stood.
“Do you know them?”
“No.”
One man held up identification toward the peephole.
“Federal investigators.”
Adrian frowned.
Grace opened the door cautiously.
“Ms. Miller?”
“Yes.”
“We'd like to speak with you and Mr. Whitmore.”
Adrian stepped beside her.
“About Malcolm Reed?”
One investigator looked at him.
“Partly.”
“What else?”
“Whitmore Global accounts.”
Adrian’s expression hardened.
The man continued.
“Several transfers were routed through companies connected to your name.”
“I didn't authorize them.”
“We're aware that's your position.”
“My position?”
Grace felt tension rise.
The investigator looked directly at Adrian.
“Mr. Whitmore, until we complete our review, we cannot assume you're only a victim.”
Grace stared.
Adrian didn't move.
“What are you saying?”
“We're saying Malcolm Reed may not have been stealing from you.”
May you like
A beat.
“He may have been stealing with you.”
