Chapter 81

Chapter 81
MADDIE

The morning continued with a bustling energy across the daycare pavilion. Everyone was deep in conversation, sketching out booth layouts and listing down the materials needed for the three-day festival. I was helping Annie sort through boxes of old game banners when heavy, frantic footsteps echoed against the wooden deck.

"Sofia! Oh, goodness, Sofia!"

Mrs. Smith came rushing toward us, her face flushed and her eyes wide with shock. She was clutching her phone so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Mrs. Smith? What's wrong?" I asked, setting down a stack of ribbons as Annie and Julian both turned around in concern.

"I... I just checked the community center's official bank account," Mrs. Smith gasped, holding out her phone screen with a trembling hand. "A wire transfer just came through five minutes ago. Sofia, it's... it's a hundred thousand dollars! Listed under a private corporate sponsor!"

Annie let out a sharp gasp, her jaw dropping. "A hundred grand?!"

Julian’s expression instantly darkened. He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening as he looked straight at me.

"Is this... is this your husband, dear?" Mrs. Smith asked softly, her voice filled with a mixture of awe and overwhelming hesitation. "Is this Hades Grant?"

I looked down at the bank notification on her phone, feeling a sharp pang of frustration in my chest. So his text wasn't just a quiet gesture—he had already executed the transfer before I even had the chance to process his message.

"Yes," I murmured, taking a slow, steadying breath. "It's him."

Mrs. Smith swallowed hard, looking between the phone and the crowded pavilion. "Sofia... this is more money than Oakridge has ever seen for a festival. We could replace all the daycare furniture, build a permanent stage, and cover the winter supplies for the shelter for the next three years. But... after everything he did to this town..."

Mr. Smith walked over, having overheard the commotion. He looked at the astronomical figure on the screen, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

"Sofia," Mr. Smith said gently, his voice full of reluctance. "I know how hurt you were by him, and we all know how ruthless he was when he tried to buy out our land. But... considering the damage his previous threats caused to our local businesses over the last few weeks... maybe this is his way of paying us back? Maybe it’s fair to just keep it as compensation for what he put Oakridge through."

"No," I said firmly, my voice leaving no room for doubt as I looked at Mr. Smith and Mrs. Smith. "We don't need his money."

"Sofia, are you sure?" Mrs. Smith asked quietly. "It could help so many people—"

"We saved this town with our own strength, unity, and hard work," I insisted softly, taking Mrs. Smith’s hands in mine. "If we accept his money, it gives him a foothold here. It makes us indebted to him, and it validates the idea that he can fix every mistake just by writing a check. Oakridge's Foundation Day should be built by the hands of the people who love it—not funded by Hades Grant's guilty conscience."

Julian’s tense shoulders visibly relaxed. A faint, proud smile touched his lips as he watched me stand my ground.

"She's right," Julian spoke up, stepping beside me. "We’ve managed every Foundation Day on our own budget. We don't need a billionaire’s charity to celebrate our freedom."

Mrs. Smith looked at her husband, who gave a slow, understanding nod. "Alright, Sofia. If that is what you believe is best, we back you completely. But... how do we return a bank transfer like this?"

"I'll handle it," I said. "Please give me the transaction details, Mrs. Smith. I will make sure every single cent goes back to his corporate account today."

Mrs. Smith printed out the transfer receipt from her phone and handed it to me. I stepped away from the crowd, walking toward the quiet shaded bench beneath the large oak tree.

My fingers brushed over my phone screen. I opened the private message thread from earlier and typed out my reply with sharp, deliberate movements.

Hades, I saw the transfer to the Oakridge community account.

We are transferring the entire amount back to Grant Enterprises today. Oakridge does not need your money, nor do we need your charity to celebrate our town. We will fund our own festival.

Please do not send any more money or gifts. If you truly respect my choice to stay here, respect our independence as well.

— Sofia

Less than two minutes after I hit send, the screen lit up with his response.

Sofia,

I understand. I am sorry for acting without asking you first—I only wanted to make things easier for you and the town, but I respect your decision.

Marcus will send you the direct account details so Mrs. Smith can transfer the funds back smoothly.

— Hades

A second later, a follow-up message arrived from Marcus with the corporate account numbers and routing codes.

I let out a slow, steady breath. There was no argument, no flexing of power, no anger. Just a simple, quiet apology. Walking back to the pavilion, I handed the account details to Mrs. Smith.

"Here are the transfer details, Mrs. Smith. Once you send it back, we can officially close this chapter."

"On it right now, dear," Mrs. Smith said, typing quickly on her banking app. After a few taps, she showed me the confirmation screen. "There. Every single cent is on its way back to Grant Enterprises."

"Good," I said, offering a small, resolute smile to everyone. "Now, let's get back to work. We have a festival to build!"

Annie clapped her hands together. "Alright! Back to the daycare booth! Julian, we need those wooden frames for the toss games by Tuesday!"

"Consider it done," Julian replied, pulling a pencil from behind his ear to start sketching dimensions on a notepad.

For the next hour, the pavilion was filled with the comforting sounds of measuring tapes, rustling banners, and lively chatter. We were completely immersed in planning our humble, hand-crafted celebration when a sleek white sedan bearing the official seal of the City pulled up near the park entrance.

A young man in a sharp grey suit stepped out, holding a thick black leather binder, and marched straight toward Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

"Excuse me," the city official said politely, bowing his head. "Are you Mr. and Mrs. Smith, head of the Oakridge Community Committee?"

"Yes, we are," Mr. Smith answered, stepping forward cautiously while Julian and I moved closer. "Can we help you with something?"

"I am Arthur from Mayor Clinton’s Executive Office," the man explained, opening his binder to reveal an official document stamped with the city's golden seal. "Mayor Clinton has just issued a special executive directive regarding Oakridge’s upcoming Foundation Day."

Annie frowned, leaning in. "A directive? Is there another problem with our permits?"

"Quite the opposite, Miss," Arthur replied with a polite smile. "The Mayor's office is officially declaring Oakridge's Foundation Day a priority cultural event for the district. By executive order, the city treasury will fully sponsor and cover all expenses for your three-day festival—including equipment rentals, security, staging, catering, and daycare activities."

A collective gasp echoed across the pavilion. Mrs. Smith nearly dropped her clipboard.

"Wait... what?!" Annie blurted out, her eyes wide as saucers. "The city treasury? Mayor Clinton’s office has ignored our funding requests for five years!"

"The Mayor feels it is high time the city gave back to Oakridge," Arthur said smoothly, handing Mr. Smith an official voucher card. "All vendor invoices and material receipts can be billed directly to the Treasury Office starting today. Unlimited budget allocation."

Mr. Smith stared at the document in absolute disbelief. "This... this is unbelievable. How did this happen overnight?"

As the city official bowed and walked back to his car, Julian turned his head slowly toward me. The profound shock on his face quickly melted into a knowing, exasperated dry laugh.

"Unbelievable?" Julian muttered, crossing his arms as he shook his head. "It's not unbelievable at all. It's Hades Grant."

Annie blinked, turning to me. "Sofia... did Hades just..."

"He didn't give the money to us," I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow.

He didn't break his promise, nor did he force his funds directly into the town's account after I rejected them. Instead, he simply used his massive political leverage over Mayor Clinton to route the entire budget through the city treasury. To the town, it was official city support. But behind the scenes, it was still Hades—quietly ensuring that Oakridge got everything it needed without breaking his word to me directly.

My phone buzzed in my pocket once more. I pulled it out with trembling fingers.

The city owes Oakridge years of support anyway. Enjoy planning the festival, Sofia.

— Hades

I stared at the text, caught between a sharp urge to sigh and a strange, helpless warmth blooming in my chest. He had completely outsmarted my rejection, proving once again that when Hades Grant decided to protect something—or someone—he would find a way, no matter what doors he had to bend to his will.