"Stop right there." Ethan's voice turned cold. "You're already infertile. Have what baby? I don't allow you to spend the company's money treating your illness. That money is mine."
So that was it. That was why they dared to treat me like this. They figured even if I got married, I couldn't have children—so I'd have no choice but to rely on my nephew in my old age.
But even if I ended up alone, with money I could hire people. Wouldn't that be better than this?
It was precisely because of those suitors that I'd spread the rumor about being infertile in the first place.
I smiled. "I'll adopt. As long as they're willing to call me Mom, that's enough."
"Grace Dickerson, don't forget your last name." Mom finally spoke, her expression dark. "Even if you're not sick and can still have kids, your company belongs to Ethan. You can't give it to someone outside the family."
Dad jumped in. "It's the New Year. Don't stir up trouble. Book your flight home, stay there, and reflect on what you've done."
"Do what your brother said. When we get back, you'll hand the company over to Ethan."
My brother's family? A pack of ungrateful wolves. I could handle them.