Chapter 2

The next morning, the lawyers arrived — but not the ones Alexander sent.

Garrett Yue was a sharp-eyed man in a charcoal suit that cost more than Alexander's car. He walked into my hospital room flanked by two associates carrying leather portfolios, and the first thing he did was close the blinds.

"Ms. Ashford, what I'm about to share is highly sensitive. Your grandfather, Edward Ashford, built the Ashford Group from nothing over fifty years. He had one daughter — your mother, Catherine."

My breath caught. My mother had never spoken about her family. When I asked as a child, she'd go quiet, then change the subject. I assumed she was an orphan, like she always implied.

"Your mother eloped at nineteen with your father, Daniel Ashford — a man Edward disapproved of. He cut her off completely. But he never stopped looking for her."

Garrett placed a photograph on my bed. A young woman with my exact eyes, standing beside a tall, silver-haired man. My mother and her father. My grandfather.

"Edward spent decades searching. By the time his investigators located Catherine, she was already in the late stages of her illness. He arranged to cover her medical expenses anonymously — but she passed before they could reunite."

So those mysterious payments that had appeared in my mother's hospital account near the end — the ones I thought were billing errors — had been from him.

"Your grandfather's health deteriorated rapidly after Catherine's death. In his final months, he rewrote his will. Everything — the Ashford Group, the properties, the trust funds — goes to you. His only living heir."

I looked at the documents Garrett spread before me. The numbers were staggering. Real estate across six countries. Controlling stakes in technology firms, pharmaceutical companies, luxury hotel chains. A private island off the coast of Greece.

"Why didn't he contact me directly?"

"He intended to. But his condition worsened faster than expected. He passed eleven days ago." Garrett paused. "He did, however, leave you this."

He handed me an envelope. Inside was a single handwritten page, the penmanship shaky but deliberate:

My dearest Vivienne,

I failed your mother. I let pride steal thirty years I can never recover. But I watched you from afar — your strength, your kindness, your stubborn refusal to surrender even when life gave you every reason to.

You are an Ashford. You were never meant to beg for scraps at anyone's table.

Take what is yours. And never let anyone make you feel small again.

— Your grandfather, Edward

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. I'd spent my entire life believing I had no one — scraping by, drowning in debt, selling my body's labor to a man who saw me as a transaction. And all along, someone had been looking for me.

A knock interrupted us. Alexander walked in, stopping short when he saw Garrett and the associates.

"Who are these people?" His tone was sharp, territorial.

Garrett stood, extending a hand with practiced calm. "Garrett Yue, Kensington & Yue. We represent Ms. Ashford's personal legal interests."

Alexander ignored the handshake. "Vivienne doesn't have personal legal counsel. Anything regarding our arrangement goes through my team."

"Your arrangement," Garrett repeated, a slight edge to his voice. "You mean the contract in which Ms. Ashford was compensated five million dollars as a gestational surrogate, with a non-disclosure clause and full custody relinquishment?"

Alexander's jaw tightened. "That's confidential."

"Not to her attorneys, it isn't." Garrett turned to me. "Ms. Ashford, I'd advise against signing the relinquishment documents until we've reviewed them thoroughly."

"She already agreed to the terms," Alexander snapped. "The contract is ironclad."

"No contract is ironclad when there's evidence of coercion, emotional duress, or failure to provide adequate medical support during pregnancy." Garrett's voice remained calm, but his words landed like grenades. "All of which we intend to examine."

Alexander's face reddened. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Vivienne, tell your lawyer to leave. Don't make this difficult."

I looked at him — really looked at him — and saw what I'd always seen but refused to acknowledge: a man who viewed me as a problem to manage, not a person to respect.

"Garrett stays," I said quietly. "And I won't be signing anything today."

Something flickered across Alexander's face — surprise, then irritation, then something colder. He straightened his tie.

"You're making a mistake, Vivienne."

As he turned to leave, Garrett called after him: "Mr. Reed, one more thing. I'd recommend your legal team familiarize themselves with the Ashford Group. You'll be hearing from us."

Alexander paused at the door but didn't turn around. The moment he was gone, Garrett looked at me.

"He doesn't know yet."

"No."

"When would you like him to find out?"

I folded my grandfather's letter carefully and tucked it against my chest.

"When it hurts the most."