“Your mother is gone. Tears won’t bring her back—so wipe your face, make dinner, and don’t look like a grieving child when my guests arrive.” That was what my husband said.

Mother, you were right. This test has opened my eyes. I walked to the table and stood beside Mr. Harrison. I placed my hand on the will. The paper felt cold, but in it I could feel the warm love of my mother. She had protected me even after her death. She had made sure I would not be used by the wrong man. Mr. Harrison turned to me and nodded respectfully. “Mrs. Evans,” he said. “That form of address made Mark react even more hysterically because now my status was far superior to his. According to your mother’s will, from this moment on, you are the legal owner of these assets.

And as the majority shareholder, you have voting power in the company’s decisions, including the fate of immoral employees. Mr. Harrison stared at Mark and Jessica. That sentence was the signal for the counterattack. Now the power was in my hands. I looked at Jessica, who was now as pale as paper. She realized her career was on the brink of collapse. She tried to smile at me—a smile that was a mixture of fear and flattery, but I turned away.