I Made His Wife’s Dress Now I’ll Marry Another Chapter 55
Grandfather pushed a contract toward me.
Salary, profit share, a board seat—it was all there. On the last page was a single condition: withdraw the request for public credit correction for the nine silhouettes.
Six years ago, they had tried to trade my marriage for purchasing money.
Six years later, they were trying to trade power for my name.
“Your mother is still recovering,” Grandfather said, his voice low and threatening. “If the brand falls, she won’t be unaffected.”
My mother’s voice came from the doorway.
“Stop using me in your price negotiations.”
My father sprang to his feet.
My mother was wearing her own old cashmere coat. She was still pale, but her back was straight. Julien held the door for her and went no farther.
“Eleanor, you shouldn’t be here.”
“So you can all decide for Clara again while I’m absent?”
My mother walked to the table and set her old thimble down on top of the contract.
“When I married into this family, all I brought with me was this and a pair of hands. Those master patterns came from her hands. If the family collapses because it can’t write the right name on a label, then let it collapse.”
Grandfather stared at her for a long, silent moment.
“Will you and your daughter only be satisfied when this family is torn apart?”
“A family isn’t held together by one person’s silence,” I said, closing the contract. “From tomorrow on, all communication goes through my counsel.”
When I left the room, Julien was standing at the far end of the corridor.
He didn’t ask how it had gone. He only handed my mother her scarf.
As the elevator doors closed, I heard Grandfather roaring my father’s name behind us.
At last, they had started demanding from one another who had sewn on the first false label.