Chapter 2 - The Wife Everyone Thought Was a NobodyThe following evening, Grace stood in front of her bedroom mirror while a stylist adjusted the back of her black gown.
She had almost refused to attend.
Then she remembered the way Michael had said the word “gala” that morning.
Not invitation.
Not celebration.
Operation.
The Ror Foundation Winter Gala was one of the biggest social events in the city.
Every major bank would send someone.
Every important investor would send someone.
Politicians would come.
Celebrities would come.
Journalists would come.
And Grace would be expected to stand beside Michael and smile.
She looked down at her reflection.
Six months pregnant.
Black silk.
Hair pinned loosely.
No elaborate diamonds.
No necklace.
She had chosen simplicity.
Michael entered the room.
He stopped.
For a moment, neither spoke.
“You look beautiful.”
Grace met his eyes in the mirror.
“Thank you.”
He came closer.
His hand hovered near her waist.
Grace stepped away.
The disappointment on his face was immediate.
“We need to talk.”
“We do.”
“After tonight.”
“Why after tonight?”
He looked at the floor.
“Because tonight is complicated.”
Grace laughed quietly.
“Everything about us seems complicated lately.”
Michael didn't answer.
A stylist cleared her throat and left.
The room became private.
Grace turned.
“Who was the woman yesterday?”
“Dr. Evelyn Ward.”
“Why was she here?”
“To discuss something confidential.”
“Medical?”
“No.”
“Financial?”
Silence.
Grace's heart tightened.
“Then what?”
“I can't tell you.”
“That is becoming your favorite sentence.”
Michael stepped forward.
“I am trying to protect you.”
“You keep using that word.”
“Because I mean it.”
“You also keep locking doors.”
He stopped.
Grace continued.
“You moved the nursery.”
“To protect the baby.”
“You had my car watched.”
“To protect you.”
“You have men stationed outside our house.”
“Yes.”
“You changed my driver's route.”
“Yes.”
“And now you're taking me to a room full of people who will be drinking champagne while you refuse to tell me why I'm in danger.”
Michael's expression hardened.
“You should trust me.”
Grace's eyes filled.
“I did.”
The words landed.
He looked away.
Grace picked up her evening coat.
“I'll be downstairs.”
She left.
At the gala, Michael's family made their entrance.
His father, Victor Ror, stood near the stage.
His mother, Helena, spoke to donors.
His younger brother, Adrian, worked the room.
And Michael's cousin, Celia Ror, watched Grace with a smile that never reached her eyes.
“Darling,” Helena said, kissing the air beside Grace's cheek.
“You look... brave.”
Grace smiled.
“What an interesting compliment.”
Helena's smile tightened.
Michael touched Grace's lower back.
“We're going to table seven.”
Celia followed.
“Michael, you need to meet the Langfords.”
“I'll handle it.”
“Tonight isn't about handling things.”
Her eyes flicked toward Grace.
“It is about appearances.”
Grace understood.
She had heard versions of that word all her marriage.
Appearances.
Image.
Family.
Perception.
Never truth.
At table seven, the city's elite filled every seat.
A banker.
Two venture capitalists.
An oil heir.
A media executive.
A senator.
Grace sat quietly.
Nobody introduced her.
Michael introduced everyone else.
When he finally gestured toward Grace, the senator smiled politely.
“And this is?”
“My wife.”
Nothing more.
Grace felt something inside her go still.
The banker laughed.
“Lucky woman.”
Celia leaned in.
“Grace is very modest.”
A few people smiled.
Grace looked at her.
“Sometimes modesty is just knowing when not to speak.”
Celia's smile froze.
Michael glanced toward her.
“Grace.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
A waiter arrived with wine.
Grace declined.
Celia whispered:
“Oh, right. The baby.”
Michael looked at her sharply.
Celia raised both hands.
“I'm happy for you.”
Then she looked at Grace's dress.
“You know, some women in our circles hire surrogates. Pregnancy can be so... limiting.”
Grace stared at her.
Before she could answer, Michael said:
“Enough.”
Celia smiled.
“I was only making conversation.”
Michael's father rose to the microphone.
Applause filled the ballroom.
Victor spoke about legacy.
Generosity.
The future.
He talked about the Ror family as though they had built the city with their own hands.
Grace listened.
Then she noticed something.
A woman seated at the far end of the room.
Silver hair.
Dark medical bag beside her.
Dr. Evelyn Ward.
The woman from Michael's study.
Grace's pulse changed.
Evelyn looked directly at her.
Then looked toward Michael.
Then toward the entrance.
Something was wrong.
Grace stood.
Michael noticed.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom.”
He caught her wrist.
“Stay close.”
She looked at his hand.
He released her.
Grace walked away.
She reached the corridor outside the ballroom.
Evelyn appeared.
“Grace.”
Grace stopped.
“Who are you?”
Evelyn looked around.
“We have very little time.”
“You're the woman from my house.”
“Yes.”
“Why were you there?”
“Because Michael asked me to come.”
“For what?”
“To verify something.”
“What?”
Evelyn hesitated.
Then looked at Grace's stomach.
“The baby.”
Grace's face changed.
“What about my baby?”
“Your child is fine.”
“Then why?”
Evelyn lowered her voice.
“Michael's family believes someone is preparing to eliminate you.”
Grace felt the floor shift.
“Why?”
“Because of what you own.”
Grace stared.
“What I own?”
Evelyn nodded.
“They know about your investment.”
Grace's blood ran cold.
“My what?”
Before Evelyn could answer, Michael appeared.
“What are you doing?”
Grace looked at him.
Evelyn immediately stepped back.
Michael's expression was unreadable.
“Go inside,” he told Grace.
“No.”
“Grace.”
“You're going to tell me now.”
He looked at Evelyn.
She shook her head slightly.
Michael closed his eyes.
He knew.
There was no more time.
But before he could speak, a man approached from the ballroom.
“Michael.”
It was Adrian.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“The Aurora Group just walked out.”
Michael's expression changed.
“Who told them?”
Adrian looked at Grace.
“Their representatives said they didn't trust your family.”
Grace understood.
Aurora Group.
The mysterious investment firm Michael had mentioned once as “the only capital source we can't replace.”
It had been supposed to save Ror Global from a massive liquidity crisis.
But the deal was collapsing.
Michael looked at Grace.
Something strange passed through his eyes.
She saw fear.
Not for himself.
For her.
Then Victor appeared.
“Son.”
Michael turned.
Victor's face was tense.
“Your wife needs to leave.”
Grace stepped between them.
“No.”
Victor stared at her.
“Excuse me?”
“If this is my life, I get to hear what is happening.”
Victor laughed.
“You have no idea.”
Grace looked directly at him.
“You're right.”
Then she smiled faintly.
“But you should.”
The ballroom doors opened.
A man in a dark suit entered.
He whispered something into Victor's ear.
Victor's face drained of color.
He looked toward Grace.
Then Michael.
Then back at Grace.
“Impossible.”
Michael heard him.
“What?”
Victor whispered:
“She is the investor.”
Everyone nearby went silent.
Grace stood perfectly still.
Celia's champagne glass slipped from her hand.
The banker stared.
Adrian whispered:
“No.”
Victor looked at Michael.
“You married her?”
Michael said nothing.
Grace's heart slammed against her ribs.
Victor understood before anyone else.
The woman they had treated as a quiet wife.
The woman they had ignored.
The woman they had embarrassed.
Was the person holding the future of the Ror empire in her hands.
Then the ballroom doors closed.
Every phone in the room began ringing at once.
The Aurora Group deal had not simply collapsed.
It had been transferred.
May you like
To Grace.
And she was the only person who could decide whether the Ror family survived.
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