The Real Heiress Is Overworked, Forget Love and Just Pay Her Chapter 03

The Real Heiress Is Overworked, Forget Love and Just Pay Her Chapter 03

“Your mom sent this. She said to stop crying.”

I’m sure I waited until Vera’s fingers were wrapped around the glass before I let go.

But the next second, the glass smashed against the floor. Vera shrieked—and just like that, the other three came running. Shards of glass had sliced right into the top of her foot.

The moment they saw the blood on her foot, panic set in. Chase sprinted for the first-aid kit. Mr. Shaw called for the family doctor to come immediately.

Mrs. Shaw stared at the foot, then something clicked in her eyes. She whipped her head toward me. “Gemma, if you didn’t want to help your sister, you could’ve just said so. Why couldn’t you just hold onto the glass?”

Before I could explain that Vera deliberately dropped it, Chase rammed his shoulder into me on his way back with the kit. “What else could it be, Mom? She did it on purpose. She’s punishing Vera for not handing over the shares.”

Mr. Shaw’s face darkened. He opened his mouth to pile on, but Vera cut in.

“Chase, Mom, don’t blame her. It was my fault. I didn’t hold it tight enough.”

Her taking the blame only made them fuss over her even more. They crowded around her, voices dripping with concern.

I watched the scene for a long moment, then glanced down at my own calf. A flying shard had sliced a cut into my skin. I didn’t say a word. I just turned around and left.

Tomorrow was Saturday. I still had to work overtime, but at least I could sleep in. Nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix anyway.

I rolled out of bed at nine and shuffled downstairs. Oddly enough, Mr. and Mrs. Shaw still hadn’t eaten breakfast. They usually finished way earlier.

They waved me over. Great. I figured they were about to chew me out again for last night.

Instead, Mr. Shaw blindsided me. “Gemma, your mother and I talked it over. We’ve decided to give you some shares in the company.”

My eyes lit up, but suspicion kicked in fast. “You’re not joking, right?”

Mrs. Shaw shook her head. “No. We realized you’ve spent so many years apart from us, it’s only natural you’d feel insecure.”

“Your dad and I actually went looking online, and apparently that’s the saying now, right? ‘Show me the money, show me the love.”

Mr. Shaw picked up the thread. “The reason we held back? We were afraid you’d blow through a huge chunk of cash. Vera warned us—she said girls your age, when they suddenly come into money, they can lose themselves fast.”

There it was. I knew she’d been in their ear the whole time.

But since they’d finally seen the light, I decided to let it go. “So how much are we talking?”

Mr. Shaw held up two fingers. “Twenty percent. The same as your brother.”

Holy crap. That was huge.

Before I could react, I heard a phone clatter to the floor behind me.

I turned. Vera stood there, her expression twisted, a flash of pure jealousy she couldn’t quite hide.

Mrs. Shaw rushed over, worried. “Vera, why are you out of bed? The doctor said you need to stay off that foot. Just call the housekeeper if you need something.”

Vera forced a smile. “I’m fine, Mom. I heard you say you’re giving Gemma shares. Is that true?”

Mrs. Shaw nodded. Vera’s smile grew tighter. “That’s… great. But I’m still worried the shareholders might bully her.”

Mrs. Shaw waved it off. “She’ll deal with them when the time comes. Once your dad and I step down, the company goes to her and Chase anyway.”

Vera’s face went even paler.

I was in a fantastic mood. I finished breakfast, went back to my room, and even redrawing my design drafts felt less soul-crushing.

Thirty minutes later, that feeling was dead.

Damn client. Why are they never satisfied?

I cursed and ground through it. Two hours later, the message I’d been waiting for finally came in: [Thanks for your hard work. Let’s just use the first draft.]

What I wanted to type: You absolute moron.

What I actually typed: [Sounds good!]

After focusing that long, my throat was dry. I went downstairs to grab a glass of water.

When I walked back into my room, someone else was already there.

Vera stood next to my laptop, wearing a smile that promised nothing good.

“Oh no, Gemma. I think I might have broken your laptop.”