Chapter 241 The terms of the grandfather’s foundation
Aria’s POV
It was a message from Damian: [How’s your day going, sweetheart?]
I stared at the words for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the keyboard
Part of me wanted to just ask him directly. To send back: *Who is Vanessa, really? What did she mean to you? Why were you saying her name in your sleep?*
But I couldn’t quite bring myself to type those words.
Because what if the answer was something I didn’t want to hear?
What if asking the question opened a door I wouldn’t be able to close again?
So instead, I typed back: [Busy but good. How are you feeling? Any pain?]
His response came almost immediately: [I’m fine. Stop worrying about me and focus on your work.]
Then, after a brief pause: [I miss you.]
Despite everything swirling through my head, I felt my chest tighten with affection.
[Miss you too,]I sent back. [I’ll be home for dinner. Don’t overdo it today, okay?]
[I promise I’m behaving. Rick is here making sure I don’t do anything stupid.]
That made me smile slightly. At least Damian’s Beta was keeping an eye on him.
I set my phone down and tried once more to focus on the work in front of me.
But Vanessa’s face kept drifting through my thoughts like smoke I couldn’t quite dispel.
*Stop it,* I commanded myself fiercely. *You’re spiraling. This is exactly what Vanessa wanted—to plant seeds of doubt that would grow into something destructive.*
I forced myself to pull up the next set of reports that needed my attention, determined to actually read them this time instead of just staring blankly at the screen.
But even as I worked my way through financial projections and market analysis, a small voice in the back of my mind kept whispering:
*He said her name. In his sleep, when all his defenses were down and he had no reason to hide anything... he said her name.*
And I didn’t know what that meant.
I didn’t know if I wanted to find out.
---
Ethan’s POV
I’d been drinking since the moment Aria walked away from me.
The bar had long since closed, but I stayed, ordering bottle after bottle until the bartender stopped asking if I wanted another. The whiskey burned going down, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest.
Everything was gone. The company. My reputation. And her.
Especially her.
By the time dawn broke over the city skyline, I’d finally run out of ways to numb myself. I stumbled out into the cold morning air, my wolf whimpering pathetically in the back of my mind—a sound I’d been trying to drown out all night.
*You did this to us,* he snarled. *You threw away our True Mate.*
"Shut up," I muttered under my breath, climbing into my car.
My hands shook as I gripped the steering wheel. I shouldn’t be driving in this state, but I didn’t care. What did it matter anymore?
---
The estate was quiet when I finally pulled up to the main house.
It was so early that most of the staff were just beginning their morning routines. A maid spotted me coming through the door and hurried over, her eyes widening at my disheveled appearance.
"Alpha Holt," she said cautiously. "Should I prepare breakfast for you?"
I waved her off without a word and headed straight for the stairs.
My head was pounding, my body exhausted, but sleep felt impossible. Clara and Marcus were probably still asleep in our wing. I couldn’t face them right now—couldn’t pretend everything was fine when my entire world had just imploded.
I was halfway down the hallway when a door opened ahead of me.
Grandmother stepped out of her room, already dressed despite the early hour. Her sharp eyes locked onto mine immediately.
"Ethan," she said, her tone carrying that particular edge that meant she’d been waiting for me. "Come with me."
It wasn’t a request.
---
She led me to my father’s study—the room that had always felt more like a shrine to the Holt legacy than an actual workspace.
The heavy mahogany furniture, the old pack photographs lining the walls, the scent of expensive cigars that had long since faded but never truly disappeared.
Grandmother dismissed the maid who’d been dusting and closed the door firmly behind us.
Then she turned and handed me a folder.
I opened it slowly, my alcohol-fogged brain struggling to process what I was seeing. Financial documents. Account statements. Asset valuations.
"This is... Grandfather’s foundation?" My voice came out rough, disbelieving.
My hands tightened on the papers as the numbers registered. Nearly a billion dollars in managed assets.
Grandfather had established this fund decades ago, back when he’d first built the Holt empire from nothing.
He’d been pragmatic enough to know that future generations might not have his business acumen, so he’d created a safety net—one managed by a private foundation, untouchable by anyone in the family except under very specific circumstances.
The original terms were simple: the fund would pass to Grandmother, and then to his children and grandchildren after her death.
But then he’d added a codicil. One final condition that he’d made crystal clear in his last days.
*If Ethan continues his relationship with Clara while married to his True Mate, the entire fund will be donated to charity. Not a single dollar goes to him.*
Even now, I could hear his voice—weak but unwavering as he’d made me read the amendment myself.
I’d thought it was just talk. A scare tactic to make me see reason.
Apparently, I’d been wrong.
"Grandmother... I already violated his terms," I said quietly, shame burning through the alcohol haze. "I can’t—"
"I’m the trustee," she interrupted sharply. "As long as you divorce Clara, this fund becomes yours to manage."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
Divorce Clara.
That’s what Mother had said too. What everyone was saying.
"With this money, you can rebuild," Grandmother continued, her voice taking on a fierce intensity.
"You can buy back shares, start a new venture, leverage it for financing—we still have options, Ethan. The Holt name still means something. And that girl..."
Her expression hardened. "That *human* girl doesn’t have the bloodline or the connections to hold onto what she’s taken. You can take it all back."
She truly believed it. I could see it in her eyes—the absolute conviction that Aria had somehow stolen everything from us, that she was nothing without the Holt family training and resources.
The foundation money could change everything. I could start over. Rebuild the company from the ground up. Prove to everyone—prove to *Aria*—that I was more than this failure.
But the cost...
"Grandmother, I—"
"ENOUGH!"
The study door slammed open.
Clara stood in the doorway, her face blotchy and red, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her voice cracked as she screamed at us.
"How dare you! I’ve sacrificed everything for this family! I’ve stayed quiet, I’ve played my part, and now you’re all ganging up to throw me away like I’m *nothing*?"
I was on my feet instantly. "Clara—"
"Don’t!" She backed away from me, her whole body shaking. "Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. I heard everything. I heard what she’s asking you to do."
Goddess, how long had she been standing outside listening?