"Hildegarde..."
For the first time, he called her by her full name.
"Those fifteen percent are mine. Whether I can handle them or not isn't your concern."
"And I want those shares only to secure Penelope's future."
That was the truth. Wilfred had never intended to spend this money.
The fifteen percent was for Penelope.
A daughter deserved to be raised in comfort.
He refused to let anyone say that after coming to live with him, Penelope had gone from an heiress to a fallen phoenix.
Hildegarde's face turned to ice, her eyes filled with contempt. "How noble that sounds. You think I believe you? You invested in my company's stock behind my back. If I dig deep enough, I could easily argue that you stole insider information and manipulated Pruitt Group's stock price."
"You won't walk away with a single cent of that fifteen percent."
"Yeah! Not a single cent!" Hilary crossed her arms, her little lips jutting out in a pout.
After saying this, Hildegarde lifted her chin again, brows raised, wearing that signature look of cold control. "Wilfred, stop throwing tantrums."
"I don't want to—and I don't have time to—indulge your theatrics."