PART 2: Millionaire Took His Mistress to a Luxury Island—Then Saw His Pregnant Wife Signing Papers Beside America’s Youngest Billionaire CEO6-019
Chapter 10
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Priya answered first.
“We disclose everything to Pierce.”
Robert nodded.
“The trust can assign the patent to Northlight before closing.”
Grace considered it.
“At what price?”
Priya’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“That depends.”
“No.”
Grace looked at her friend through the screen.
“I’m not selling my own company something my father preserved for me.”
“Grace—”
“I’ll contribute it.”
Robert leaned forward.
“You should speak with counsel before deciding.”
“I will.”
Grace turned one of her father’s handwritten pages.
At the bottom he had written:
This should belong wherever Gracie believes it can do the most good.
Her throat tightened.
“He already told me what he wanted.”
Declan arrived that afternoon with two attorneys.
The meeting lasted nearly three hours.
There were no dramatic accusations.
No threats to abandon the deal.
Only lawyers asking precise questions while Grace drank tea and shifted every twenty minutes because her back hurt.
Eventually Declan closed his folder.
“If the trust contributes the patent to Northlight, our valuation increases.”
Priya blinked from the laptop screen.
“By how much?”
One attorney slid a revised analysis across the table.
Priya whistled.
Grace looked at the figure.
Northlight was worth considerably more than they had believed.
But oddly, the number did not produce the reaction Grace expected.
Six months earlier she might have felt vindicated.
A week earlier she might have wanted Ethan to see it and regret ever overlooking what she had built.
Now she mostly thought about her father.
He had saved something because he believed she might someday want it back.
Declan watched her.
“You don’t look pleased.”
“I am.”
“Just not about the valuation?”
Grace smiled faintly.
“No.”
He nodded as though he understood.
Before leaving, Declan stopped near the front door.
“There’s another matter.”
Grace braced herself.
“What now?”
“The press will eventually report the investment.”
“That’s expected.”
“Your involvement may attract attention.”
“Why?”
“Because your husband’s company is one of Northlight’s largest clients.”
Grace sighed.
“So people will speculate.”
“Probably.”
“Can the facts speak for themselves?”
“They usually do eventually.”
Grace smiled.
“That sounds almost optimistic coming from you.”
Declan buttoned his jacket.
“I’m occasionally disappointing.”
She laughed.
Across the room, Ethan heard it.
A week earlier, jealousy might have twisted inside him.
Instead, he simply observed Grace.
She looked alive.
Tired.
Pregnant.
Overwhelmed.
But alive.
It occurred to Ethan that he had spent years enjoying Grace’s gentleness without asking what ambitions she had folded away to make room for everyone else.
He did not want her to fold herself smaller again.
Not even for him.
Especially not for him.
The following weeks developed a rhythm neither Grace nor Ethan had planned.
Ethan stayed in the city apartment.
Grace remained at the house.
They attended medical appointments together.
They discussed nursery furniture.
They spoke about insurance.
They did not discuss reconciliation.
At least not directly.
Ethan began therapy.
Grace found a counselor of her own.
One afternoon her therapist asked a question that followed her home.
“If Ethan had never been unfaithful, would you have been happy with the marriage you had?”
Grace initially wanted to say yes.
Then she realized she could not.
She had loved Ethan.
She still loved parts of the life they created.
But happiness had become something she measured by the absence of obvious unhappiness.
They rarely fought.
They were financially secure.
They wanted their daughter.
They enjoyed many of the same friends.
But she had become lonely while standing beside someone.
Ethan’s affair had not created that loneliness.
It had exposed it.
That mattered.
Ethan made discoveries of his own.
His therapist asked why Vanessa had appealed to him.
Ethan offered predictable answers at first.
She admired him.
She was spontaneous.
She made him feel younger.
Eventually those answers stopped satisfying him.
One Tuesday afternoon he said, “She knew me only in one setting.”
His therapist waited.
“Work.”
“And why did that matter?”
“I’m good at work.”
“Were you not good at marriage?”
Ethan looked at the floor.
“I thought I was.”
“Based on what?”
That question bothered him for days.
Based on what?
He paid bills.
He came home most evenings.
He remembered anniversaries.
He bought thoughtful Christmas presents.
He never raised his voice.
He believed fidelity was a line he would never cross.
Until he crossed it.
He had evaluated himself by tasks.
Grace had needed presence.
They were not the same thing.
Vanessa transferred to Chicago.
Before leaving, she asked Grace for a private conversation.
Grace nearly declined.
Then curiosity won.
They met at a small café in Cambridge.
Vanessa wore navy rather than red.
Grace noticed the detail and immediately felt ridiculous for noticing.
Vanessa sat opposite her.
“Thank you for coming.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you.”
Grace folded her hands around a glass of water.
May you like
“I don’t want details.”
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