Chapter 14 - THE BILLIONAIRE WHO GOT DOWN ON HIS KNEES
Forty-eight million dollars.
For a moment, the number meant nothing.
Then I thought about Rachel's overdue rent.
My nephews' school lunches.
The nights I had worked through a fever because missing a shift meant losing money we couldn't afford to lose.
And my mother.
Who had died believing she couldn't protect us.
I stared at the agreement.
“Is it real?”
Grant nodded.
“The trust was funded years ago. Mercer concealed it through a network of holding companies, but the documents establish your family's claim.”
I looked at Eleanor.
“You knew?”
“No,” she whispered. “Thomas never told me.”
Grant contacted his attorneys.
By afternoon, the trust had been located.
Its assets were frozen pending a court review, but the records confirmed that the money existed.
For the first time in years, I felt something unfamiliar.
Possibility.
Rachel cried when I told her.
Not because of the money.
Because we could finally stop being afraid of the next bill.
But happiness didn't arrive without complications.
Three days later, Grant appeared at the servants' entrance.
I was packing my belongings.
My housekeeping uniform lay folded on the bed.
He looked at the suitcase.
“Leaving?”
“Yes.”
His expression tightened.
“Because of me?”
“Because I need to know who I am when I'm not working for your family.”
He nodded slowly.
“That makes sense.”
I zipped the suitcase.
“Grant, I don't hate you.”
“I know.”
“But I can't pretend that night didn't happen.”
His face changed.
“The dance.”
“Yes.”
He looked down.
“I humiliated you.”
“You did.”
“In front of two hundred people.”
“Yes.”
“And you still gave me the most extraordinary dance of my life.”
I swallowed.
“That doesn't erase what happened.”
“No,” he said. “It doesn't.”
Then he did something I never expected.
Grant Whitmore lowered himself onto one knee.
I stared.
“What are you doing?”
He looked up.
“Apologizing properly.”
“Grant, get up.”
“No.”
I almost laughed.
He took my hand.
“Emily Brooks, I was arrogant. Cruel. Careless with someone else's dignity. I treated your kindness like weakness.”
My eyes filled.
“You didn't know me.”
“That was my failure.”
He reached into his pocket.
My heart stopped.
But instead of a ring, he removed a small silver key.
“What is that?”
“The key to a building in downtown Chicago.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“It's the old Brooks Dance Studio.”
I couldn't speak.
Grant continued.
“My father bought the property after Daniel died. It's been sitting empty for years.”
I shook my head.
“Grant—”
“I've transferred it into a nonprofit trust controlled by you and Rachel. No conditions. No obligation to me.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
“You didn't have to do that.”
“I know.”
He stood.
Then smiled sadly.
“And before you ask, no, this isn't another marriage proposal.”
I laughed through my tears.
“Good.”
His smile faded.
“Not until I know you'd say yes because you love me. Not because I have money, or because I made a promise in front of strangers.”
My heart ached.
“Grant…”
He brushed a tear from my cheek.
“I love you, Emily.”
The words hung between us.
I closed my eyes.
Because the terrible truth was that I loved him too.
But before I could answer, his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His expression darkened.
“What is it?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“Mercer has agreed to testify.”
“That's good, isn't it?”
Grant hesitated.
“He's offering information about your mother's death.”
My stomach tightened.
“In exchange for what?”
May you like
Grant's face went pale.
“In exchange for my freedom.”
