Chapter Seven: The Big Opportunity

Elena's POV

For once, I refused to give her the last word.

Grace held out her hand as I crossed the kitchen. I took it without thinking. Her fingers closed around mine, warm and steady, and the tightness in my chest loosened just enough to let me breathe properly again. We walked out into the hallway together. Behind us, the kitchen door swung shut, cutting Sophie off.

For a few steps neither of us spoke. The mansion’s long corridors always felt different when Grace was beside me. Less formal. Less like a place where I had to measure every reaction.

“You look tired,” she said quietly. “The last weeks of university always take more than people admit.”

I glanced at her. “Finals. The thesis defense. Trying not to think about everything else.”

She smiled the small, knowing smile she reserved for me. “You still managed to finish strong. I’ve watched you work yourself into the ground for years. Graduation is only a few weeks away now. You should be proud of what you’ve already done.”

We turned a corner. Afternoon light came through the tall windows in long rectangles across the floor. I kept my eyes on those patches of light instead of the portraits that lined the walls,Richard’s ancestors, Adrian’s ancestors, people who had never expected someone like me to walk these halls.

“Have you thought about what comes after?” Grace asked.

The question was soft, not prying. She had a way of asking things that made it feel safe to answer.

“Some days more than others,” I said.

“Good. You should. This house has been a shelter, but shelters are not meant to be permanent.” She squeezed my hand once. “You have grown into someone who can stand on her own. I hope you remember that when the time comes.”

Something in my throat tightened. I nodded because speaking felt too close to crying, and I did not want to cry in a hallway where anyone might appear.

We reached the door to Richard’s office. Grace stopped with me. She gave my hand one last firm squeeze, the kind that said she was still here even if she could not walk inside with me.

“Go on,” she murmured. “He’s waiting.”

I knocked once.

“Come in.”

Richard’s voice carried the same controlled authority it always did. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The office smelled of leather and the faint citrus polish the staff used on the wood. He sat behind the large mahogany desk, a stack of papers in front of him. When he looked up and saw me, he set the papers aside and gestured toward the chair opposite.

“Sit down, Elena. There’s something I’d like us to discuss.”

I sat.

The chair felt higher than usual, or maybe I simply felt smaller. I folded my hands in my lap and waited, certain he was about to talk about the moving date again, about independence, about the temporary apartment that still did not feel real.

Richard studied me for a moment. Then he asked, “What do you intend to do once you graduate?”

The question landed heavier than I expected. Graduation was only weeks away. I had spent so many days bracing myself for the moment I would have to leave this house that I had not fully let myself picture what life might look like on the other side of the door.

I hesitated.

Then I told him the truth I had kept mostly to myself.

“I want to practice corporate law,” I said. “Business law. Mergers and acquisitions. I want to work with companies that actually matter,negotiate the deals, protect the clients, and eventually sit at the table as senior counsel for an international firm. I don’t want the Williams name to open every door for me. I want to earn the position. Hard work. Results. And nothing else.”

Richard leaned back slightly. Something like approval moved across his face, quick and controlled.

“Corporate law is not an easy field,” he said. “It demands discipline,confidence,and the ability to hold your ground when someone with more power tries to push you aside.”

I met his eyes. “I know. I’m willing to work for it.”

He watched me a second longer, then nodded.

“As it happens, I have a friend who owns a firm in Manhattan. Prestigious. They’re expanding their junior team and will begin reviewing recent graduates after the spring term ends. I can put in a recommendation for an entry-level position once you have your degree,provided you meet their standards. A recommendation is only a door, Elena. You will still have to walk through it and prove yourself.”

My pulse jumped. “You would do that?”

“Of course. You’re family, whether you feel it every day or not. And I respect ambition when I see it.”

He paused before opening a drawer and removing a black folder.

“The firm is called Brooks, Whitmore & Associates. It's located in Midtown Manhattan, in a forty-story glass tower overlooking Park Avenue. They handle corporate transactions, mergers and acquisitions, international business agreements, and high-stakes commercial disputes.”

He placed the folder on his desk.

“Their clients include multinational technology companies, investment banks, and private equity firms. Some of their transactions involve billions of dollars. They're currently expanding their corporate transactions division because they've recently secured several major international clients.”

I looked at the folder, unable to hide my curiosity.

“That's a very big firm.”

“One of the most competitive in Manhattan,” he replied. “They expect excellence. Their junior associates work long hours, handle demanding research assignments, draft contracts, review acquisition documents, and assist senior lawyers during negotiations. Nobody gets to sit back and admire the view.”

A small smile tugged at my lips.

“I wouldn't mind the long hours.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” His mouth curved slightly. “The first year of corporate law can be brutal. But if you are serious about this, I believe you could do well.”

He tapped the folder with one finger.