Chapter 38
Grace's POV
Eleanor settled herself at the kitchen island, watching us with obvious interest.
I gave Alex a knowing look. He had already guessed what was happening without needing to see it.
"My grandparents are meddlesome people, always have been. You'll get used to it. Next time, if it's inconvenient, you can simply refuse."
I shook my head. "Actually, I was hoping to see you today anyway. I secured the project, and your help was invaluable. I've been wanting to properly thank you."
"It was nothing. No need for thanks," Alex said softly.
"It's not just politeness—I really want to do something for you. Let me think... how should I thank you?"
I was somewhat talking to myself. Alex lacked for nothing; I couldn't think of an appropriate way to express my gratitude.
"Then prepare dinner as thanks," Alex suggested.
"I won't disappoint you. If we're not comparing me to your professional chef, I think I'm... not bad," I said confidently.
I remembered my conversation with Eleanor, during which she told me about Alex's childhood.
Alex's mother had died early, Daisy was his stepmother, and his father was busy with work, so he grew up without much parental love.
Eleanor felt sorry for him and took him abroad, but just a few years later, when his grandfather Ethan became seriously ill, Alex was sent to live with relatives.
Eleanor said that was her biggest regret. Alex's cold personality was partly due to that experience.
Those relatives were jealous of Alex's background and treated him poorly. For those years, he rarely had enough to eat. When he finally reunited with Eleanor, he was skin and bones.
These stories gave me a new understanding of Alex.
He wasn't a privileged young master who had been spoiled, but a boy who, like me, had experienced a lonely childhood.
When I was little, I always hoped to eat meals made by family members, even if they weren't delicious.
Putting myself in his shoes, I wanted even more to prepare a refined meal for Alex.
---
The Morgan kitchen was spectacular—all gleaming marble countertops and professional-grade appliances. It was larger than my room but somehow still felt welcoming.
"Any dietary restrictions I should know about?" I asked, opening the refrigerator to survey the options.
Alex leaned against the counter, watching me. "I don't care for overly sweet things, and spicy food doesn't agree with me."
I nodded, mentally cataloging the ingredients available. "How about Mediterranean? Seared salmon with quinoa salad and garlic vegetables?"
"Can you make that?" He sounded genuinely surprised.
"Don't sound so shocked," I said, pulling ingredients from the refrigerator. "Not everyone grew up with personal chefs."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I didn't mean to offend. It's just unexpected."
I handed him a bottle of white wine. "Make yourself useful and open this. Then you can help with the vegetables."
For a moment, I thought he might refuse—Alex didn't strike me as someone who took directions from others—but he simply took the bottle and reached for the corkscrew.
Soon I served the steaming dishes on the table.
The dishes weren't complicated, but there was a good variety, and I had prepared them quickly.
He tasted a few bites. "It's very good."
"I'm glad you like it, though it's far from three-star Michelin chef level."
"Don't sell yourself short, Grace. It really is delicious," Eleanor added.
Seeing them enjoy the meal gave me a sense of satisfaction.
After dinner, Alex suddenly remembered something. "By the way, that morning when I had your phone, a man called looking for you. I answered the call."
I immediately thought of Richard's accusations.
So the man Richard had mentioned was Alex.
"Your personal affairs are not something I'll question or interfere with. But now that we have an engagement, I trust you'll handle your past matters appropriately," Alex said calmly.
No interrogation, no demands. His response made me feel a twinge of guilt.
I had thought that given Alex's status and position, he might care about my past, even demand details, but he didn't ask anything.
"I'll handle everything as soon as possible."
Alex nodded, but I didn't notice the subtle emotion that flashed in his eyes.
He seemed to suppress some feeling, only adding quietly: "If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask."
I softly replied, "Okay."
---
The next morning, I walked into my office at Wilson Holdings to find Julie rushing toward me with a tense expression.
"We've got a problem," she said in a low voice. "The team's formal onboarding process has completely stalled."
"What?" I frowned, taking the tablet she handed me. "Who's responsible for this?"
"On paper, it's routine HR review, but it's Elizabeth and Andrew pulling strings behind the scenes," Julie explained. "I looked over your betting agreement with Andrew. It states that your authority only takes effect after approval by the majority of shareholders."
I quickly scanned the document, my stomach sinking. "So unless most shareholders agree, I can't do anything?"
"Exactly. Elizabeth is conveniently 'sick' today, and several key shareholders are mysteriously 'unreachable.'" Julie's voice seethed with anger. "This is completely Andrew's doing! He's trying to sideline you so we can't even do basic work."
Through the glass walls of my office, I could see my team members waiting anxiously. They had followed me here, leaving secure positions, and now they were caught in this ridiculous administrative roadblock.
"If this is the game they want to play," I said calmly, "then we'll play it right back. Julie, arrange an emergency shareholders' meeting. Now."
"Now?" Julie's eyes widened. "But Grace, it's almost impossible to get all the shareholders together on such short notice—some are even overseas—"
"Tell them there's an urgent matter requiring immediate vote," I said firmly. "According to company bylaws, shareholders can participate via video. Set the meeting in the main conference room in one hour. Email all shareholders and copy every executive and board member."
Julie hesitated for a moment, seemingly about to say something, but then nodded. "Right away."
After she left, I took a deep breath to steady my thoughts. This was a power play, and Andrew clearly thought he still had control. He was wrong.