Grace's POV
The silence stretched endlessly on the other end of the line. I could practically feel Amara's fury radiating through the phone, her anger at my defiance burning hot after what had happened between us earlier.
But I deserved her wrath.
That woman had every right to be furious after I'd kicked and slapped her simply because she'd asked for one small favor. All she'd wanted was for me to threaten resignation so he would focus entirely on her instead of his work.
How difficult could that really be?
"What's taking you so long to make up your mind, sis? Do you want Mom to die?" Amara's voice cut through my thoughts.
"...fine, I'll transfer all my assets to you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll set up a call with Mom. I need you to tell her you're doing well—better than well, actually. And I need you to assure her she doesn't have to worry anymore."
