Chapter 193
Laura's POV
All this time, I thought I was competing with some lucky orphan. But Grace had been playing in a league I couldn't even see, let alone participate in.
My eyes couldn't leave her figure as she moved through the room with that effortless confidence that only came with real power.
My mind raced back to college, to those days when Grace wore thrift store clothes and lived on scholarship money. She'd seemed so... ordinary. So beneath me. When Richard brought her into our circle, praising her intelligence and academic achievements, I'd consoled myself that she was just another smart girl without connections. Someone who'd fade into middle-class mediocrity after graduation.
The irony cut through me like a blade. Here I was, the one who'd actually needed to claw my way up. Every condescending thought I'd had about her "humble background" now felt like a joke with me as the punchline.
Grace's voice cut through my spiral of self-destruction, clear and cold as winter air. "Laura, we meet again. I really didn't expect to see you here representing NaturaLuxe at Wilson Holdings."
My throat felt like sandpaper. I wanted to respond with dignity, to match her composed tone, but the words wouldn't come. My carefully constructed confidence lay in pieces around my feet.
Say something. Anything.
But all I could do was stare at the files in Grace's hands, desperately hoping it was all some elaborate bluff.
I forced myself to speak, my voice barely steady. "You're the president of Wilson Holdings now. You should maintain some professional boundaries. This is just normal business competition."
Grace's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her eyes—amusement, maybe, or pity. "I'm giving you a chance to admit your mistakes and seek reconciliation. That's more consideration than most would show."
The condescension in her tone hit me like a physical blow. She was talking to me like I was a child who'd been caught stealing candy. The Grace I remembered from college would never have spoken with such casual authority.
"I have nothing to explain."
Grace's voice remained steady, almost gentle. "The core fragrance formula for NaturaLuxe—you stole my research data, didn't you?"
I laughed, the sound sharp and brittle. "Where's your proof? The documents on the table aren't original data. If you're going to accuse me like this, you'd better bring it out; otherwise, I'll sue you for defamation."
Sophia connected her laptop to the large screen, and my world ended.
The data comparison filled the wall—my company's "proprietary" formulas side by side with Grace's research files. Every compound, every ratio, every innovative technique I'd claimed as my breakthrough work. The timestamps were damning: Grace's files dated back three years, long before NaturaLuxe developed this project.
"No... that's impossible..." The words escaped me in a whisper.
Did Richard return that USB drive?
"My university advisor also has backup copies of this research," Grace added calmly. "Academic institutions are quite thorough about preserving intellectual property."
Andrew stood up, his face a mask of cold calculation. I could see him doing the math—corporate espionage, intellectual property theft, potential lawsuits that could destroy not just me, but any company associated with me. The protection I'd counted on evaporated as he stepped away from my defense.
The eyes around the conference table felt like knives. Every person in the room was looking at me like I was something dirty they'd scraped off their shoe.
"The evidence has been forwarded to NaturaLuxe headquarters and the relevant legal departments," Sophia announced. "Ms. Parker, your actions constitute intellectual property theft. You'll need to remain in Starport to cooperate with the investigation."
I felt my blood turn to ice. The confident businesswoman facade cracked completely, revealing the terrified woman underneath.
"Grace, I believe my work here is done," Sophia said.
Sophia left the conference room after Grace nodded.
Then Andrew followed, choosing to abandon us after discovering this partnership was toxic.
---
Grace's POV
Thirty minutes later, two police cars pulled up outside Wilson Holdings. I watched from my office window as the officers entered the building, their presence drawing curious stares from employees and visitors alike.
When Julie led the officers into the conference room, Laura was still inside. The transformation was startling—the polished businesswoman from an hour ago had aged a decade. Her eyes were red and swollen, her perfect makeup smeared. But strangest of all was the expression on her face. Not fear or anger, but a deep, hollow resignation.
It was over, the grudge between Laura and me.
I was finishing my statement at the police station when my phone buzzed with a text from Alex: How did it go? Coming home soon?
Just finished at the station. Heading home now, I replied, then added, I love you.
The response came immediately: I love you too. I'll have dinner waiting.
As I walked toward my car, I spotted a familiar figure leaning against the building across the street. Even from a distance, I immediately recognized Richard.
He'd been waiting. From the moment he brought Laura here, he'd been waiting to see me.
---
Richard's POV
I stood across from the police station, watching the building where everything had finally unraveled. The afternoon sun cast long shadows on the pavement, but I felt nothing—no warmth, no comfort. Just the cold realization that Laura and I had been nothing more than frogs in a well, thinking we understood the world while Grace orchestrated our downfall from heights we couldn't even see.
I knew what would happen when Laura came here.
The truth was, I knew she'd walk into this trap, and I'd let her do it anyway. She'd made her choices—stealing Grace's research, lying about saving my life, building our entire relationship on deception. This was just... consequences.
She brought this on herself.
The irony wasn't lost on me. All these years, I'd thought I was the one pulling strings, managing situations, staying in control. But Grace had been playing a different game entirely—one where she held all the cards and we didn't even know we were at the table.
My phone buzzed. Another text from Mother, probably demanding updates. I ignored it. There was nothing left to update. The Harrison family was crumbling, Laura was facing criminal charges, and I was standing on a street corner like some pathetic stalker, waiting for a glimpse of the woman who'd systematically destroyed everything I thought I'd built.