Chapter 66
Richard's POV
My phone wouldn't stop buzzing.
6:47 AM. Thirteen missed calls. The first notification froze my blood: #StarporthHomewrecker trending nationwide
I opened the article.
Every word was a knife. Every fabricated detail made me want to throw up.
By the time I got to Harrison Group at 8:00 AM, it was already a war zone.
Employees clustered in hallways, phones out, whispering. I caught fragments as I passed:
"—can you believe she—"
"—always knew something was off—"
"—poor Mr. Harrison, being used like that—"
I slammed into my office and immediately back out. Marched straight to the nearest cluster of gossiping employees.
"Conference room. Now. Everyone."
They scattered like roaches.
I called an emergency meeting. Every department head. Every manager. Sixty people crammed into the main conference room within fifteen minutes.
I stood at the head of the table and slammed my fist down so hard the laptop jumped.
"Anyone caught spreading those lies gets fired. Immediately. No warnings. No second chances. Pack your shit and get out."
Dead silence.
"Grace is the most professional, ethical person who's ever worked at this company. That article is complete defamation—lies fabricated by someone with a vendetta. And if I find out anyone here contributed to it, believed it, or shared it, you're done. Not just at Harrison Group. I'll make sure you never work in this industry again."
I stormed out and pulled up the college alumni group chat on my phone.
They were already tearing her apart.
Always knew there was something fake about her
Can't believe she fooled us for so long
My fury surged uncontrollably.
I started typing: This article is 100% defamation. I worked with Grace for years. She is one of the most ethical, hardworking, professional people I have ever known. Anyone sharing this garbage should be ashamed of themselves. I will personally testify to her character in court if necessary.
I hit send.
My phone rang immediately.
Laura.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" she screamed. "You're defending her?"
"That article is clearly defamation. I know Grace well—she's absolutely not that kind of person!"
"But it's from an official reporter. How could it be defamation?"
"Reporters write fake news too. That reporter is a complete asshole! Stay out of this. Don't go around talking about it."
I hung up on her.
---
Grace's POV
I arrived at the office that morning to find Julie waiting with my coffee.
"Grace, there's an article about you. It's bad." Worry creased her face.
"How bad?" I took a sip of coffee.
Julie handed me the latest newspaper.
I read the entire article twice.
The lies were so elaborate. So detailed. Photos edited to look intimate. "Anonymous sources" that didn't exist. A complete fabrication of my professional life.
The comments were worse. Thousands of strangers calling me things I wouldn't repeat.
"Grace?" Julie's voice was panicked. "We need to respond. We need to sue. We need—"
"It's fine."
"It's NOT fine! They're destroying your reputation! The article's been shared almost ninety thousand times—"
"Don't worry. The article will be taken down soon. The news cycle will die down quickly." My voice was calm. "As for whoever's behind this, I've already had someone investigate."
Julie's voice softened. "Grace... what do you need me to do?"
"Contact our legal team. I want cease and desist letters sent to every platform that shared this article within the hour." My voice went cold. "Anyone spreading malicious lies gets held accountable. Every single one."
"On it." She hesitated. "Grace? Do you think... do you think Alex saw the article?"
My stomach clenched.
Shit.
I'd been so focused on damage control that I hadn't thought about how this might affect him. But Alex was rational. Logical. He wouldn't jump to conclusions.
"I'll handle Alex," I said, more confidently than I felt.
I immediately dialed his number.
No answer.
I tried again. Same result.
He's probably in a meeting. He doesn't believe this trash. He knows me better than that.
I had to believe that.
My office door crashed open.
No knock. No warning.
Andrew strode in, his expression carefully neutral.
Julie shot to her feet, eyes blazing. "Excuse me, you can't just—"
"It's fine, Julie." I kept my voice level.
Andrew kept his gaze on Julie, his eyes filled with an indecipherable meaning.
"Julie, go do what I just asked." I dismissed her.
Watching Julie leave the office, he finally shifted his attention to me.
"Andrew. What do you want?"
He smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Just checking in on my dear cousin." He settled into the chair across from me without invitation. "Rough morning, I imagine."
"If you're here to gloat, you can leave," I said flatly.
"Gloat?" He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Grace, I'm concerned. These allegations are serious. If Wilson Holdings suffers because of your... personal conduct... you might not be able to handle that responsibility."
There it was.
"Get to the point, Andrew."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I have a solution. You keep your position as senior executive. Comfortable office. Generous salary. All the prestige, none of the stress."
"In exchange for?"
"Sixty percent of your inherited shares."
I laughed. Actually laughed.
"Sixty percent? The terms went down. What happened? Did your mother raise her assessment of how much of a threat I pose?"
His smile tightened. "This is a limited-time offer, Grace."
"I'm sure it is." I picked up my pen, twirling it between my fingers. "You can tell Elizabeth the answer is no. Same as before. Same as it'll always be."
"You're not thinking clearly." He stood, buttoning his jacket. "Grandfather returns from Valhalla in one month. He's... let's say, skeptical about a young woman running the Wilson empire."
My hand stilled.
Andrew continued smoothly. "If he doesn't recognize your capability, the entire Wilson family won't support you."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's reality." He walked to the window, hands in his pockets. "You could make this easy on yourself, Grace. Step back from the core business. Enjoy your wealth. Live the life of a Wilson heiress without the burden of actual responsibility."
Condescending prick.
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed. Then again. And again.
I glanced at the screen. News alerts. Lots of them.