chapter 151
Fiona's POV:
The grand ceremony hall of Grayson Manor gleamed under crystal chandeliers, their light catching the silver and blue decorations that adorned every surface for the Welcome Baby Party.
I stood near the entrance, cradling my son against my chest, watching the steady stream of distinguished guests arrive.
Perfect, I thought, adjusting the baby's silk blanket. Everything is going according to plan.
Representatives from all four major packs had come—Grayson, Sullivan, Shepherd, and Freeman. Beyond the pack elite, I spotted city council members, prominent business leaders, and even a few carefully selected media representatives Elizabeth had personally approved.
The air hummed with Alpha power, political maneuvering, and the scent of expensive perfumes mingling with champagne.
On the massive screen behind the main stage, a slideshow cycled through professionally shot photos of my son—his tiny fists, his sleeping face, his first smile captured in perfect lighting.
The hall itself had been transformed into something out of a fairy tale.
Elizabeth had spared no expense. This party wasn't just about welcoming a new baby—it was a statement. A declaration of the Grayson family's continued dominance and prosperity.
And I was at the center of it all.
"Fiona, darling." Hannah appeared at my elbow, resplendent in a champagne-colored gown. "You look radiant. Motherhood suits you."
I forced a smile, though my arms ached from holding the baby for the past hour. "Thank you, Hannah. I'm so glad you could make it."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Her eyes swept the room with calculating precision. "You are simply the pride of our family."
My gaze drifted across the room, and I spotted them almost immediately: Lucas Grayson and Tori Sullivan, making their entrance through the main doors.
Six months ago, the sight would have sent jealousy searing through my veins. Three months ago, it would have sparked rage.
But today? Today I felt nothing but smug satisfaction.
Look at me now, Tori, I thought, adjusting the baby in my arms so his face was clearly visible to anyone watching. Look at what I have.
"Fiona, darling." Hannah's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "You're smiling. What are you thinking about?"
"Just how fortunate I am," I said, meaning every word.
"Ladies and gentlemen." Elizabeth's voice carried across the room, commanding immediate attention. "Thank you all for joining us this evening to celebrate the full moon naming ceremony of my great-grandson."
I moved toward the front, positioning myself where the cameras could capture me and my son in the best light. This was my moment. My triumph.
"As is tradition," Elizabeth continued, "we will begin with the blessing, followed by the formal presentation of gifts to secure the child's future."
The ceremony proceeded according to ancient protocol.
"And now," Elizabeth announced, "the presentation of the inheritance gift."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for—the formal recognition of my son's place in the Grayson hierarchy.
"To my great-grandson," Elizabeth said, her voice carrying the weight of generations, "I bestow ten percent of Grayson Corporation shares, to be held in trust until his eighteenth birthday. Until that time, these shares—and their considerable voting rights and dividends—will be managed by his mother, Fiona Price-Grayson."
The room erupted in gasps and whispers. Ten percent of Grayson Corporation. Not just wealth, but power. Real, tangible power in one of the most influential companies in Moonhaven.
I felt my knees go weak with triumph.
Hannah, standing near the back with Alexander, looked like she might faint from sheer vindication.
See? I wanted to shout at Tori. See what my son is worth? See what I've secured? Not just for him, but for myself?
But when I looked toward the main table, Tori wasn't even watching. She was engaged in what appeared to be a chess match with Lucas and a small boy I recognized as Arabella's son, Leo.
The three of them were bent over a board, Tori's face animated as she explained something to the child.
She's pretending not to care, I told myself firmly, even as something cold twisted in my stomach. She has to be dying inside.
"Fiona?" Elizabeth's voice held a note of formality. "We're ready for you."
I straightened my shoulders, adjusted the baby in my arms one final time, and moved toward the ceremonial table with what I hoped was graceful confidence.
The contract lay waiting, beside it sat an elegant fountain pen and the official Grayson Corporation documents that would transfer those precious shares into trust.
All I had to do was sign.
But something made me pause. Some instinct made me turn to look at Ethan.
Ethan stood near the edge of the platform, his phone pressed to his ear.
As I watched, his expression shifted—a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. But it wasn't a warm smile. It was cold. Detached. Almost... satisfied in a way that made my stomach clench with sudden unease.
What's wrong? I wanted to ask.
But before I could form the words, a commotion erupted at the entrance to the ceremony hall.
Footsteps—rapid, desperate, echoing against marble—growing louder.
Then a voice, trembling with rage and grief and absolute conviction, rang out across the stunned silence:
"Fiona Price! Give me back my son!"