For seven years, I quietly protected Grant’s company.
I approved emergency funding.
Covered payroll when his Atlanta hotel project lost eighteen million dollars.
Persuaded the Bellamy board not to remove him after he personally guaranteed a development on environmentally protected land.
When Holloway Meridian could not meet pension obligations for nearly six hundred employees, Bellamy capital stabilized the fund before anyone missed a payment.
Grant interpreted every rescue as proof of his own brilliance.
That evening, he adjusted his cuff links while Delaney Cross waited near the front door in a burgundy evening gown.
Delaney was Grant’s director of corporate relations.
She was also the woman whose late-night messages always appeared just before he carried his phone into another room.
Her hand rested comfortably on his arm.
Not carefully.
Not nervously.
Comfortably.
She had done this before.
Mavis stood behind them wearing a silver gown and the expression of a woman attending her son’s coronation.
