Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Whispers
The news of Grace Holloway’s permanent installation at the Whitmore mansion spread through Lake Forest’s elite circles like a wildfire. High-society gossips and the expensive nanny agencies Ethan had discarded were furious. Rumors began to circulate, weaponized by the public relations firm retained by the Apex Group to damage Ethan’s public standing before the critical board vote.
On Wednesday morning, a prominent Chicago tabloid published an article with a damning headline: “Billionaire's Grief or Madness? Ethan Whitmore Fires Elite Specialists to Trust Quadruplets to Low-Wage Janitor.”
Ethan stood in his kitchen, staring at the tablet screen, his blood boiling. The article implied that Grace was an opportunist exploiting a grieving billionaire, and that Ethan was suffering from a psychological breakdown that endangered the safety of the Whitmore heirs.
"They're coming after you, Grace," Ethan said as she entered the kitchen to prepare the sterilized bottles for the morning feeding. "They're trying to destroy your reputation to get to me. I can have my legal team issue a cease-and-desist by noon."
Grace didn't look up from her task. She carefully measured the formula, her movements precise and calm. "Let them write whatever they want, Ethan. A newspaper article can't undo the fact that Jack gained four ounces this week, or that Sophie smiled for the first time yesterday morning."
"You don't understand the malice of these people," Ethan pressed, stepping closer to her. "The Apex Group wants to strip me of everything. If they subpoena my household records to prove neglect, they could drag you into a deposition."
Grace paused, her hands resting on the edge of the marble counter. She looked up at him, her gray eyes flashing with a hidden, ancient strength. "Let them deposit me. I’ve worked three jobs a day since I was eighteen to support my younger sister through college. I’ve cleaned the toilets of the men who sit on your board, Ethan. I know exactly how hollow their power is. They think because I have no money, I have no spine. They are mistaken."
Ethan stared at her, a profound sense of admiration washing over him. For months, he had been surrounded by people who told him what he wanted to hear because of his wealth. Grace didn't care about his money; she cared about the truth.
Suddenly, the nursery monitor on the counter crackled to life. It wasn't a cry of distress, but a soft, collective babbling.
May you like
"Go up," Grace said, a gentle smile returning to her face. "Noah is awake. He likes to hear about the London rainstorm you mentioned earlier. Go tell him."
Ethan nodded, leaving the corporate chaos behind as he walked up the stairs to face the real work of his life.
