Chapter 2

Before I left for the country, Spark sat me down for a serious talk. "Joliet, make the most of your time overseas. Don't worry about money."

He continued, "I know you've had it rough these past few years. But Joyce has been with us since she was a kid, and your mom's always been soft-hearted. Try to understand."

I looked at him, the man who was a titan in the business world, now showing a rare hint of exhaustion and guilt.

I nodded, saying nothing.

He asked me to understand?

Why should I?

Why should I swallow my pride just to make up for your soft hearts?

But I kept my mouth shut.

I just quietly pocketed the hefty start-up money and the monthly allowance of 30 grand, and then boarded my flight abroad.

For the next seven years, I was like a sponge, hungry for knowledge and soaking up everything I could.

I earned a double major in finance and computer science, and then went on to snag a master's degree from a top business school in record time.

During the day, I was holed up in the library and labs; at night, I'd dive into global financial markets, investing with the money the Grant family provided.

At first, I just played it safe with small investments, but soon my picks got sharper and my bets got bolder.

Stocks, futures, crypto, and so on.

I surfed the tides of capital, watching the numbers in my account skyrocket.

The monthly allowance and all that guilt money they wired me on holidays became my first investment capital.

I hardly ever splurged on luxury goods or wasted time at empty parties. Every ounce of my time and cash was poured into learning and growing my fortune.

Watching my balance soar, I felt a kind of security I'd never experienced before.

Having my fate in my own hands was downright addictive.

I never had to worry about having enough to eat or wear again. And I didn't have to drag myself through the mess Joyce always left behind on purpose, just to finally hit the books, bone-tired and running on fumes.

I kept only the bare minimum of contact with the Grant family, cutting loose from anything that wasn't absolutely necessary.

Aside from sending the occasional update and taking their money, I never bothered to call unless I had to.

Tasha would call from time to time, always tiptoeing around the subject, asking about my studies and how I was doing, but somehow, the conversation always circled back to Joyce.

Like Joyce just graduated, she was interning at the company, and she was seeing Zack Lewis, that hotshot young manager everyone was talking about...

Zack Lewis.

His name had come up before. He was a guy from a regular family, but with serious ambition. He worked his way up at Grant Group in no time, riding on his talent and charm.

It seemed like Joyce's taste wasn't much to write home about. She went for a guy who was just a slick pretender, a cuckoo in disguise, waiting to steal the magpie's nest.

Every time Tasha mentioned it, I'd just reply with a flat "mm", never bothered to comment. My life had already split off from theirs.

That was how things stayed until about six months ago, when Tasha called again.

She said, "Joliet, Joyce is about to have her third kid, and it's a boy. The first two were girls, so your dad's over the moon this time.

"Can't you at least come back for once? It'd be nice for the whole family to get together."

On my end, I was glued to my computer, eyes locked on a maze of financial models and data streams, fingers flying across the keyboard.

Hearing that, I paused, a cold smirk tugging at my lips.

A third kid? Joyce really was pulling out all the stops to lock down her spot in the family.

And Spark and Tasha? Now that they finally had a grandson, they were probably putting Joyce on a pedestal, thinking the family legacy was finally secure.

"Sorry, Mom," I said, keeping my voice calm. "I'm in the middle of a major project, and it's crunch time. I'm slammed right now, so there's just no way I can make it back. Give my congrats to Joyce and Zack for me."

My refusal was clean and decisive.

There was a pause on the line, and then Tasha sighed. "Alright, just make sure you're taking care of yourself. And if you ever run short on money, give me a call, okay?"

After hanging up, I leaned back in my chair, gazing out at the foreign sky beyond the window.

Busy? Sure, I was busy.

But it was not like I couldn't carve out a few days to go back home if I really wanted to.

I just didn't want to play along with their fake family reunion act anymore.

Because I knew the right moment was just around the corner.

Grant Group might look like a powerhouse from the outside, but inside, it was rotting away. Years of problems piled up with no hope of turning things around.

Spark was getting up there in age, set in his old-school ways, and let golden opportunities for transformation slip right through his fingers.

Joyce and Zack? She was always blowing cash and desperate to be the center of attention, while he acted slick and capable but was really just out for the next big score.

These past few years, they waved the "reform" flag, stuffed the place with their own cronies, kicked out anyone who didn't play along, and rocked the company to its core.

They dumped money into a bunch of shiny projects that looked impressive but were actually bottomless money pits.

I knew every detail, inside out, thanks to my own special channels.

All the wealth I'd built up over the years, along with the offshore companies I'd set up, formed a vast net, quietly scooping up the scattered shares of Grant Group that had slipped out of their control.

And through intricate financial operations, I was discreetly impacting their cash flow from behind the scenes.

What they owed me wasn't just about money. It was the way they stole my feelings and crushed my spirit.

All those years drifting on my own, all the cold looks and favoritism when I came back, every single day and night stuffed with resentment—I'd make sure to collect every bit of it, with interest.

And now, it was time to return and reclaim everything that was rightfully mine in person.