Chapter 9
"Nice and quiet here," I said, pouring them some tea. "Have a seat. Did Vivian have you over today?"
The three of them exchanged glances.
Mrs. Stone sighed. "Honestly, I just wanted to see what she was like. After meeting her, I thought,"
"Thought what?" I asked.
"She just can't command the room like you do," Mrs. Stone said.
"Ms. Stone, don't badmouth her," I said.
"I'm not gossiping," Mrs. Zane jumped in. "You can tell she's spent way too much time overseas. She thinks hosting a couple of fancy dinners is all it takes to fit in with us. She has no clue how much the Capital City crowd has changed lately."
She shot me a look, leaving the rest unsaid.
I knew exactly what she was getting at. Over the years, the business scene in Capital City had become a tangled web, with so many threads leading straight to Evelyn Holdings and to me.
But they never talked about it in public.
That was our unspoken rule.
After seeing the ladies out, I stood by the window, lost in thought for a while.
Vivian wasn't dumb, but she had one fatal flaw. She thought a woman's value depended on the guy she was with.
She thought that way twenty-five years ago.
Twenty-five years later, she still hasn't changed.
Me? I ditched that way of thinking a long time ago.
*****
Edward started working on "restructuring the domestic business."
He'd been running things in Hudson Portus for twenty-five years, and honestly, he wasn't doing badly.
Grant International pulled in about 300 million dollars a year. By overseas standards, that made him a decent mid-sized player among businesses abroad.
Back in Capital City, though, it barely made a blip on the radar.
But he had no idea.
The first thing he did after coming back was to reach out to old contacts.
Grandpa Grant had some connections in Capital City back in the day, and Edward figured those relationships were still good, so he worked the phones and made the rounds.
The results were pretty interesting.
Frank was giving me updates almost every day.
"Edward went to see Mr. Weston from Winston Group today," Frank reported. "Mr. Weston did meet with him, but spent the whole time talking about Evelyn Holdings and their joint project. He kept bringing up Ms. Harrington from Evelyn Holdings, asking if Edward knew her."
"Oh," I replied.
"Edward said he didn't know her, so Mr. Weston just brushed him off after that," Frank added.
"Anything else?" I asked.
"He also met with Mr. Howard from Eastgate Realty. Mr. Howard didn't beat around the bush—he sat down and went straight for it: 'Old Ed, what's your real connection to Evelyn Holdings? We did some due diligence a couple days ago and found that the money behind several of your Hudson Portus projects，'" Frank said.
"He actually said that?" I asked.
"He only got halfway before his secretary dragged him out. Must've realized it was too sensitive to mention in front of Edward," Frank replied.
I set the documents down.
Upstream funding.' I thought, the words echoing in my mind.
Sooner or later, this was bound to come out.
Twenty-five years ago, Edward headed off to Hudson Portus to chase his dreams. For the first three years, he was on his own, working himself to the bone, barely scraping by, and almost going bankrupt.
Then, in his fourth year, an "angel investment" swooped in and saved his skin. The money came from a company called BVI Holdings. He never figured out who was really pulling the strings behind it.
That secret investor? It was me, all along.
By that fourth year, my own clothing business had just opened its third store, and I'd managed to save up over 333 thousand dollars.
When I heard Edward was about to go under in Hudson Portus, I had my lawyer set up an offshore company and quietly wired the money over.
It wasn't out of pity for him. Back then, Anna was only three years old. I just didn't want her to grow up thinking her dad was a loser.
As my business kept booming, that BVI Holdings kept pumping more money into Edward's projects.
Out of the 300 million dollars he built up in Hudson Portus, at least forty percent of it was thanks to me footing the bill.
He had no idea.
He just assumed it was some shadowy investment group from overseas.
"Ms. Harrington, about this," Frank said, sounding a bit hesitant.
"Let's just wait and see. Let him figure it out on his own," I replied.
"What if he never figures it out?" Frank asked.
"Vivian's no pushover. She'll sniff it out sooner or later," I said.