"The Matthews family has been in steep decline these past few years. Last year, your market cap barely scraped a few billion. Are you certain you don't want this contract?"
Patrick's voice was gruff, probing. Even after a decade of marriage to Jesse, the old man still didn't see me as a true Gilbert. He was constantly testing me, waiting for the moment I'd prioritize blood over loyalty.
I met his gaze with practiced sincerity.
"To say I'm not tempted would be a lie, Grandfather. But I married Jesse. I'm a Gilbert now. How could I siphon resources from my husband's family to subsidize my mother's? I'm not like those short-sighted women who can't see the bigger picture."
A flicker of approval passed through his eyes.
"Good. Since my granddaughter-in-law has such integrity, I'll give you something else." He leaned back, tapping his cane. "As a Gilbert, you should hold a stake in the company. There's a board meeting at the end of the month. Prepare yourself. When the time comes, I'll cast my vote for you."
My expression stayed calm—neither servile nor arrogant. "I won't disappoint you."
He reached out and patted my shoulder, his grip heavy. "Support Jesse well. He's been foolish lately, blinded by… distractions. But in his heart, he still cares for you."
Cares for me? I almost scoffed. No matter how many lines Jesse crossed, to Patrick, he was still the golden boy, the sole heir.
"He is my husband," I said, nodding obediently. "Standing by him is my duty."
Inheriting everything he owns is also my duty.
The moment the banquet ended and the guests dispersed, the atmosphere shifted. Jesse cornered me in the hallway, slamming his palm against the wall by my head. His face was thunderous.
"You really put on quite a show, didn't you?"
I looked up at him, feigning confusion. "What do you mean?"
Jesse let out a cold laugh. "Did you honestly think playing the magnanimous saint would change my mind?" He leaned in, his cologne suffocating. "You didn't cry, didn't make a scene… for a second, I thought you'd actually matured. Didn't expect your methods to stay this filthy."
I truly didn't understand what he was talking about.
Impatient with my silence, he whipped out his phone and shoved the screen in my face. A call log from Grandpa.
"I brought Joanna to the banquet, and immediately after, Grandpa called to tear strips off me. He even ripped that contract from my hands and gave it to you instead. Do you dare look me in the eye and say you didn't orchestrate that?"
So he'd misunderstood again. He thought I'd run to his grandfather to tattle.
"Think whatever you want," I said flatly.
Jesse froze. The old Tessa would have panicked. The old Tessa would have begged him to believe her, desperate to clear her name.
He scoffed, eyes narrowing. "Fine. Since you refuse to be obedient, don't blame me for embarrassing you."
I assumed he meant he'd take Joanna on another shopping spree or buy her a car.
I was wrong.
On the day of the board meeting, Joanna strolled into the conference room like she owned the building. She walked past me with her chin held high, radiating smug satisfaction, and sat directly beside Jesse.
"I've resigned from the hospital," she announced, her voice dripping sweetness. "Mr. Gilbert recommended me for a seat on the board. We'll be colleagues from now on."
The voting commenced. I passed with unanimous support; my ten years of work spoke for themselves.
Joanna barely scraped by. Only Jesse's faction voted for her.
She didn't seem to care about the numbers. She only cared about the victory. She leaned toward me, dropping her voice so only I could hear. "It took you ten years to get a seat at this table. I did it in two weeks. I think we both know who the real winner is."
At the head of the table, Patrick's face was a storm cloud. The board wasn't a playground for stray pets, yet here was Jesse, forcing his mistress into the inner circle.
Even worse, the Fox family was the very architect of the crisis that nearly bankrupted the Gilberts a decade ago.
Jesse wasn't old, but he was acting like a senile fool.
He caught my eye and raised a brow—a silent taunt: This is the price of your disobedience.
I held his gaze, expression unreadable: As long as your little canary stays in her cage, I don't care.
As we walked out, Jesse caught my arm, halting me in front of the other directors.
"I'm flying to the Middle East tomorrow," he announced loudly. "You and Joanna need to get along. She's new to this. Make sure you mentor her properly."
A ripple of shock went through the bystanders. Asking the wife to train the mistress? Unheard of. A public humiliation.
I lowered my gaze, masking the cold fury burning in my chest.
Patrick, unable to stomach the scene, glared at his grandson, knuckles white on his cane. But Jesse didn't flinch. He wasn't afraid of the old man anymore.
He leaned down to my ear, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper.
"Grandpa is old, Tessa. He won't be around to protect you forever. If you know what's good for you, don't play any tricks while I'm gone."
