Chapter 13
Grace stopped three feet away.
Vanessa looked her up and down.
Maid uniform.
Pregnant.
Silver bracelet.
Then smiled.
“So brave now.”
Grace said nothing.
Vanessa continued.
“Boss beside you.”
“Senator behind you.”
“Suddenly you have a voice.”
Grace’s hands tightened.
Vanessa saw.
“Take them away and what are you?”
Grace answered:
“Still here.”
Silence.
Vanessa’s smile thinned.
Grace continued.
“You starved me.”
“Yes.”
“Threatened my home.”
“Yes.”
“Lied about my baby.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“And?”
“You thought that made me disappear.”
Vanessa laughed.
“It made you useful.”
Grace looked at her.
“Until I spoke.”
Vanessa’s face hardened.
Grace turned toward Marcus.
“You pushed my mother.”
He looked away.
She continued.
“You watched her fall.”
“Yes.”
“Did she speak?”
Marcus went still.
Grace stepped closer.
“What did my mother say?”
He refused.
Vanessa smiled.
“She begged.”
Grace flinched.
Marcus looked at his sister.
“No.”
Vanessa’s smile faltered.
Grace stared at him.
“What did she say?”
Marcus finally answered.
“She said Grace.”
The room became silent.
Grace closed her eyes.
Just her name.
Her mother’s final thought.
Marcus continued.
“She told me not to touch you.”
Grace’s breathing shook.
“And?”
“I told her she should’ve thought about that before stealing from us.”
Charles looked away.
Marcus’s voice lowered.
“She said the bracelet wasn’t ours.”
“What else?”
Marcus stared at the floor.
“She said Damon would know what to do.”
Damon went still.
Grace looked at him.
Her mother had trusted a man Grace had not yet loved.
Because Evelyn and Vincent Cross had once created a line of protection neither younger generation understood.
Grace touched the bracelet.
Marcus continued.
“Then she said something I didn’t understand.”
“What?”
He looked at Vanessa.
“She said the child will end it.”
Vanessa’s face changed.
Damon noticed.
“What child?”
Marcus shrugged.
“No idea then.”
Grace’s hand moved over her stomach.
Vanessa knew.
Of course.
She had interpreted Margaret’s words later.
Once Grace became pregnant by Damon.
The child would end it.
Not prophecy.
Possibility.
A Cross child born through a woman carrying the Caldwell key.
A living bridge between old enemies.
Peace embodied.
That threatened everyone who profited from feud.
Vincent Rowe.
Vanessa.
Marcus.
Maybe others.
Damon looked at Vanessa.
“You thought Margaret knew Grace would end up with me.”
Vanessa laughed nervously.
“Ridiculous.”
“You believed it enough to isolate her.”
Silence.
“You believed it enough to erase the baby's paternity.”
Nothing.
Charles whispered:
“My God.”
Vanessa snapped:
“Stop making it romantic.”
Everyone looked at her.
She pointed toward Grace’s stomach.
“That baby is leverage.”
“Nothing else.”
Damon’s expression turned lethal.
Vanessa kept going.
“You think people care about love?”
“They care about names.”
“Blood.”
“Routes.”
“Who inherits fear.”
Grace stared.
Vanessa stepped closer.
“And when Damon dies, everyone around you will decide what your child is worth.”
Damon moved.
Grace stopped him.
Again.
Then she looked at Vanessa.
“You’re right about one thing.”
Vanessa smiled.
“What?”
“People like you only understand worth when you can control it.”
Grace’s voice steadied.
“My mother understood something else.”
Vanessa’s smile faded.
“People protect what they love even when there’s nothing in it for them.”
Silence.
Grace looked toward Charles.
“Evelyn protected my mother.”
Then Damon.
“My mother protected me.”
Then her stomach.
“And I will protect this baby.”
Finally Vanessa.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Vanessa’s face twisted.
She lunged.
Not far.
Charles caught his daughter’s arm.
For the first time in the story, the senator physically stopped her.
“No.”
Vanessa stared at him.
He released her.
Then said quietly:
May you like
“You’re done using my name.”
That hurt her more than the slap at the cemetery ever had.
