Chapter 5 - The True Colors
The penthouse suite of the Vance Global Tower in Manhattan was a monument to old money and absolute power. Glass walls offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, and the minimalist decor screamed of wealth that didn't need to shout.
Caleb and Sloane walked in, escorted by two security guards. Sloane was trying to maintain her trademark poise, but her fingers clutched her designer handbag so tightly her knuckles were white.
"This is ridiculous," Sloane whispered. "Why do I have to be here for a business meeting?"
"Because if you aren't, we go bankrupt, Sloane," Caleb snapped, his patience entirely depleted.
The double doors at the end of the boardroom swung open.
"The Chairwoman will see you now," Arthur Pendelton said, stepping aside.
Caleb and Sloane walked into the room. Sitting in a high-backed, emerald-green leather chair at the head of the massive marble conference table was a woman. She was dressed in an immaculate, custom-tailored power suit, her dark hair styled in elegant waves. She was reviewing a document, her face partially obscured.
Next to her, sitting on a small chair with a coloring book, was a little girl in a beautiful silk dress, her hair adorned with a sparkling silver bow.
Caleb’s heart stopped.
Sloane gasped, her jaw dropping as she stumbled backward. "You...?"
The woman in the chair slowly looked up.
It was Grace.
But this was not the quiet, bowed-headed housekeeper who had scrubbed their floors. Her eyes were sharp, bright, and radiating an immense, crushing authority.
"Hello, Caleb," Grace said, her voice smooth, calm, and utterly commanding. "Hello, Sloane."
"Grace?" Caleb whispered, his brain refusing to process the reality before him. "What... what is this? How is this possible?"
"This is Grace Vance-Sterling," Arthur Pendelton announced, his voice echoing in the silent room. "Sole heir to the Vance Global Empire, and the creator and patent-holder of the automation software your company relies on."
"No!" Sloane shrieked, her face turning an ugly, mottled red. "This is a joke! She's a thief! She was my housekeeper! She stole those clothes, she—"
"Silence, Ms. Mercer," Arthur said coldly. "One more outburst and security will remove you from the premises, and Vance Global will initiate immediate bankruptcy proceedings against Westbrook Industries."
Sloane choked on her words, her face pale with terror.
Caleb looked from Grace to Lily, who was looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. Then, he looked down at the table. Lying in the center of the pristine marble was a small, crumpled gold-wrapped package—the very gift Sloane had thrown into the trash.
"I believe you lost this, Caleb," Grace said quietly, gesturing to the package.
May you like
Caleb felt a wave of profound shame wash over him, so heavy it made his knees weak. "Grace... I... I didn't know."
"No, you didn't," Grace said, her voice tinged with a quiet sadness. "You didn't know because you chose not to look. You let the wealth and the stress blind you. You let her," Grace pointed a sharp finger at Sloane, "convince you that the people who served you were beneath your notice. But worst of all, you let her break my daughter's heart."
