I walked into the BBQ party soaked and covered in mud, and my fiancée’s father sneered at me, “You really look like trash.” I clenched my fists, ready to turn around and leave… when the mansion doors slowly opened.

tapped softly against the patio umbrellas, but nobody moved.

Charles Whitmore lowered his drink slowly. “Mother…”

I froze.

Mother?

Ryan looked at me in shock. “Emily… that’s my grandmother, Margaret Whitmore. She lives in the east wing and almost never comes out.”

Margaret’s sharp eyes never left Charles. “I heard what you said.”

Charles forced a tight smile.continue reading …