Chapter 57
Grace's POV
Her face was red, her hands full of cheap plastic toys.
"I hate you!" She threw another rock. This one hit my arm, stinging with pain. "You're the worst! The worst!"
The orchid fell from my hand.
Something inside me snapped.
I crossed the distance in three strides and grabbed Emma's wrist before she could throw again.
"Stop," I said, voice cold and level. "Stop right now."
Emma tried to pull away, but I held firm.
"Let go! Let me go!"
"Forgot the rule I told you last time?" I crouched to her eye level. "If you do this again, I'll make you experience that pain again."
Emma's eyes widened. Then her face crumpled.
"Daddy!" she wailed. "Daddy, help me!"
"Then let's call him." I pulled out my phone with my free hand, maintaining my grip on Emma. "Let's see what Daddy has to say about your behavior."
Richard answered on the first ring.
"Grace? What—"
"Come to the first-floor elevator area," I said, cutting him off. "Now."
"What's wrong? Is Grandmother—"
"Your daughter is in trouble."
I hung up before he could respond.
Emma was sobbing now, hiccupping with tears.
Five minutes later, Richard burst from the elevator.
"What the hell happened?" Richard demanded.
I pointed at the ruined flowers, and toys at Emma's feet.
"Your daughter did this."
Richard grabbed Emma's shoulders—not gently. She screamed.
"Did you throw things at Grace?" he asked, voice harsh.
Emma's lip trembled. "She's trying to take you away from Mommy—"
"Since she wants Laura to be her mother," I said calmly. "I'll give her a chance. Either you marry Laura and make it official, or we dissolve my legal guardianship of Emma and send her permanently to Laura."
My voice was calm, but each word landed with precision.
I looked into Richard's eyes. He looked shocked and immediately defended himself: "What are you talking about? You're my wife. How could I possibly marry someone else?"
He quickly pieced together what had happened, yanked Emma up, and spanked her bottom hard several times.
"Stop crying! Stop now!"
Emma's crying turned to whimpers, her face full of pain and fear.
"Grace is your mother. Do you understand? Have you forgotten everything? Laura stayed with you for a few days and you went crazy? Are you tired of this family? Want to go back to being an orphan at the orphanage?"
Emma's voice trembled at the last words. Seeing those tear-filled eyes, Richard clearly felt pain too. After all, this was his child.
"..."
A cold smile crossed my lips. I had no interest in watching their performance. I still needed to see Grandmother, so while their drama continued, I picked up the nutritional supplements and flowers and turned toward the stairs.
Margaret stood outside room 412, arms crossed. Jason lounged in a nearby chair, scrolling through his phone.
They both looked up as I approached.
"Well, well." Margaret's voice dripped with false sweetness. "Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence."
I kept walking.
"Must be nice," Jason added without looking up from his screen. "Being too busy with your career to visit dying relatives."
I stopped.
"You want to talk about family?" I carefully set the flowers on the nearby table. "Let's talk."
Margaret's smile faltered slightly.
"I've spent two years working ninety-hour weeks for Harrison Group's IPO. Creating ninety percent of the core value that made your precious company worth anything." My voice stayed level. Calm. "I never took a salary. Never asked for vacation. Never complained when Emma threw tantrums or Jason demanded I cook for him at midnight."
Jason's phone slowly lowered.
"And now you want to lecture me about family duty?"
"That's different," Margaret sputtered. "You're his wife. You have obligations—"
"Oh, I have obligations?" I stepped closer. "Tell me, Margaret—when was the last time you worked a single day to support this family? When did you sacrifice anything?"
Her face went red. "How dare you—"
"And about that infertility issue you love bringing up." I kept my voice pleasant. Clinical. "I don't have that problem."
The silence in the hospital hallway was deafening after my words hung in the air.
Margaret's face had gone from red to pale in seconds. Jason's phone slipped from his hands, clattering onto the floor. I could see the exact moment comprehension dawned in their eyes.
"What did you just say?" Margaret whispered, her voice barely audible.
I straightened my shoulders, feeling a strange sense of liberation wash over me. "I had a comprehensive medical examination a month ago. The doctor confirmed that my reproductive system is completely normal. No issues whatsoever."
Margaret's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "That's impossible. Richard said during your pre-marital checkup that you—"
"Then the question becomes obvious, doesn't it?" I cut her off, my voice steady as steel. "Who exactly has the problem? He's refused intimacy for two years and insisted on adoption instead."
Margaret seemed to understand something, and I could see the wheels turning in their heads. The doubt creeping in like poison.
Good. Let them question everything.
"Grace, is what you're saying true?" came Richard's voice from behind me. Clearly he had caught up and heard those conversations.
That feigned shock made me feel sick.
"Grace, maybe there was a mistake in the previous tests," he said. I turned slowly to see him approaching with Emma's hand clutched tightly in his. His face was a mask of forced calm, but despite the hospital's air conditioning, sweat beaded on his forehead. "Medical errors happen all the time..."
I let out a cold laugh that echoed off the sterile walls. "Is that so? Then why have you never been willing to get retested? Why do you keep insisting the problem is with me?"
Richard's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching near his temple. I could practically see him scrambling for an explanation, probably thinking I was trying to cover for him somehow. The fool had no idea what was coming next.
"We should discuss this at home," he said, his voice strained as he attempted to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory.
But Margaret wasn't having it. Her maternal instincts were kicking in, and suspicion was written all over her botoxed features. "Richard, is there something you're not telling us?"
Perfect.
Before Richard could fumble through another lie, I carefully picked up my flowers and fruit basket. "I came here to see Aria. That's what I'm going to do."
I walked past them toward room 412.