Chapter 215: Smart Kids

"Well," I said, letting my voice carry a cool edge, "isn’t this lively."Grant stiffened like I’d caught him doing something filthy. He hurriedly set his bowl down, eyes darting between me and Lincy. "Riley? What are you doing here?"

I lifted the food container in my hand like proof of good intentions. "Dad, I heard you were busy, so I went out of my way to bring you something to eat."

Lincy’s face twisted instantly. She looked me up and down, then spat, "Copycat."

I walked past her like she was a piece of furniture and placed my container on Grant’s table. I set it down neatly, right beside the dishes Lincy had brought.

Then I leaned in slightly and asked, sweet as sugar, "So, Dad... whose cooking are you going to eat?"

Grant’s face tightened, and for a second I saw the real struggle in him. Lincy was the child he’d pampered for years, the one he always protected. I was the daughter he couldn’t afford to offend anymore, not with everything hanging by a thread.

He hesitated long enough for Lincy’s smugness to rise.

Then he finally spoke. "Lincy, I had your cooking last night. Tonight, I’ll try what your sister made."

Good.

At least he wasn’t foolish enough to choose Lincy in front of me. My food was meant to keep him alive. Hers might be the thing that buried him.

Lincy pouted, arms folding across her chest. "Hmph. You’re so biased, Dad."

Grant let out a tired breath and tried to smooth it over. "Fine, fine. Leave it here. I’ll eat both."

Lincy’s eyes lit up like she’d won something. And the moment she felt secure again, she didn’t even bother hiding her true agenda.

"Dad," she said, tilting her chin, "I want to work at the company."

Grant shut it down immediately. "No way."

Lincy stomped her foot. "Why not? There are no sons in this family. I’m trying to help you so you’re not overworked."

Grant’s patience thinned. "You haven’t studied finance or management. How exactly are you going to help? I’ll agree to anything else you ask, but this is non-negotiable." He glanced toward his desk. "I have important documents to handle. You should leave now."

Lincy stomped again, shot me a vicious glare like it was my fault, and stormed out of the office.

The door slammed.

The silence afterward felt heavier than the argument.

Grant exhaled and rubbed his temples like he had a headache that never ended. I calmly unpacked the food I brought, laying everything out neatly, like I belonged there.

I kept my tone light. "Why not let her work here?"

Grant shook his head. "Setting her identity aside, I know my own daughter. She’s good at enjoying life—parties, food, fun. But business? Not a chance." His mouth tightened. "And now she’s involved with Yenick. This sudden interest isn’t about helping me. It’s about helping him."

A small laugh slipped out of me. "At least you’re not completely blind."

He shot me a sharp look. "That’s no way to talk to your father. I’m still your elder."

I picked up a fork and held it out to him with a grin that looked playful on the outside. "Alright, elder. Eat. I brought this just for you."

Grant was simple in a way that was almost predictable—stubborn, traditional, and allergic to disrespect. The more you pushed him, the more he dug in. The softer you spoke, the more he listened. Lincy understood that. I never cared to play that game.

He stared at the dishes. "Did you really make this yourself?"

I snorted. "You wish. Do I look like I have that kind of time? The Hales’ cook made it." I lowered my voice, flat and direct. "Relax. I’m not about to poison you. I haven’t inherited your empire yet."

Grant grumbled, but he started eating anyway. "You’ve got some nerve. I don’t know where you got that attitude."

I didn’t answer. I just watched him take a few bites, watched his throat move as he swallowed, watched for any sign of hesitation.

Then, while he ate, I casually walked around his office like I was only curious. I checked the corners. The shelves. The little spaces people loved to ignore.

"Has that woman been here?" I asked, not looking at him.

"Twice," he admitted without hesitation. "Just to drop things off."

He said it plainly because he knew I could find out if he lied. Grant wasn’t smart emotionally, but he wasn’t stupid about facts.

"Well, you’ll be interning soon anyway. If you’re interested in business, you can start at one of the branch offices. If I ever go back to the country, you can take over the company."

I let out a short laugh and waved him off. "As if I care."

Truth was, Lewis had already moved my gold bars to our marital home. With that kind of security, I could live comfortably without lifting a finger. I didn’t need Grant’s company to survive.

But Grant didn’t know everything. He only knew enough to think he still had something I might want.

He finished eating quickly—workaholic habits never die—and waved me over with a familiar, commanding gesture.

"Since you’re here," he said, sliding a document across the desk, "look over this proposal."

It was a development plan for Eastburgh.

The name alone tugged something old in my chest. Before my so-called death, I’d heard whispers about that place—how it was expected to become the next major economic zone within twenty years. What used to be empty land and quiet roads was about to explode with value, and everyone with money was already scrambling to claim a piece.

Grant had managed to secure a lot.

The very lot I had once bid for.

He studied my face. "What’s the matter?"

"Nothing," I said, flipping through the pages carefully.

Ashbourne Group’s plan was straightforward—office buildings, commercial districts, the usual safe play. If the area developed like people predicted, property values would rise and pull everything around it up with it.

Grant leaned back slightly. "What do you think?"

I kept my voice calm. "The plan is decent. But it’s not maximizing the land’s potential."

His eyes sharpened with interest. "Oh? Go on."

I pulled up a map of Eastburgh and tapped the screen. "Dad, you clearly heard that the government plans to purchase land there, but there hasn’t been a formal announcement. Even if the higher-ups agree, politics can shift overnight. If the strategy changes... who’s going to work in office buildings in the middle of nowhere?"

Grant didn’t interrupt, which told me I’d hit the right nerve.

I continued. "And even if the area develops exactly as predicted, you’re not the only one with information. Companies in Snowville and even the Hales will jump in. Everyone’s first instinct will be real estate." I paused, letting it sink in. "But real estate isn’t the goldmine it was twenty years ago. The market is crowded. Returns are mediocre."

Grant’s gaze stayed fixed on me. "So what would you do instead?"

I didn’t hesitate. "Ecotourism."

He blinked. I leaned forward, pointing at the coastline and the mountain line on the map.

"Fewer people travel abroad now. Domestic travel is booming. This land is perfect—sea in front, mountains behind. We could build an integrated tourist destination: an international theme park, a zoo, and since Snowville has long winters, a winter wonderland attraction." I sat back slightly. "That gives us visitors all year."

I kept going, voice steady, simple, clear. "With that kind of traffic, we add luxury hotels, vacation homes, shopping centers. The investment is higher, yes, but the returns can crush what standard real estate would bring." I met his eyes. "And even if the government plan doesn’t happen, we won’t lose everything. But if the area does develop, we ride that wave too. It’s a safer risk than it looks."

Grant stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time. "You’ve been out of school for a long time," he said slowly. "How do you know all this?"

I shrugged, acting bored. "I married Lewis. He taught me." Then I added, blunt and honest, "Lincy can keep her little tricks. I don’t care for them. She could never learn what I know."

I flipped the last page and slid the document back to him. "Ashbourne Group may be ahead today, but real estate is slowly dying. To stay ahead, you have to innovate. The future belongs to AI and renewable energy."

His approval was obvious, even if he tried to hide it. "If you’re interested, you can start shadowing the secretaries."

I stood up, letting my arrogance cover what I really felt. "I’ll think about it." I glanced at the trash on his desk. "Anyway, I’m leaving. I’ll take this out for you."

Grant waved me off like it was nothing. "Go ahead."

I walked out with my calm smile still in place.

Outside, I picked up the food Lincy had brought and handed it to one of the bodyguards. My voice dropped low, sharp, and serious.

"Take this for testing."