Chapter 1
I spent forty years building an empire. And in the end, the only place I ever went soft was my own granddaughter.
She was spoiled. Mouthy. Skipped class. Supposedly lived like nothing was ever too expensive.
Every time I tried to straighten her out, she blew me off. Eventually, I stopped trying.
Maybe I’d already written her off completely. Then came the family dinner.
She walked in wearing a faded jacket with pilled sleeves, sitting at the far end of the long table. Her shoes had a split along the side, the sole peeling open like it was about to talk.
I was about to rip into her for looking like a mess.
Then I heard it. A voice. Cold. Bitter. And unmistakably hers.
[There she goes again. The old witch putting on her queen-of-the-family act.]
[Everyone thinks I have everything handed to me. But I barely get anything for myself. That’s it.]
[Everyone says Grandma thinks girls are useless. That I’m not allowed to have anything that belongs to the Kensingtons.]
[Fine. If she doesn’t want me, just say it. Stop making me the family screw-up while my brother gets everything handed to him.]
I slammed my teacup down on the table.
I personally made sure she had everything she needed to study and grow up well.
Who the hell had the nerve to treat my granddaughter like this under my own roof?
***
The Kensington family built its fortune on the ports.
I started with one rusted cargo ship and spent forty years fighting tooth and nail to turn Kensington Maritime into what it is today.
When I retired, I handed the conglomerate to my daughter, Sloane Kensington.
She’s tougher than I was at her age.
Docks, shipping lanes, entire fleets—she doesn’t even flinch.
The only thing I can’t rest easy about is her home life.
Her husband, Julian Kensington, married into the family.
People mocked him for it back then. Said he had no spine. He never got angry. Always gentle. Always agreeable.
Sloane was busy, so he stepped back. Managed the kids. The estate. Everything at home.
Every holiday, he’d make me a cup of tea himself.
Outsiders praised him. “Sloane’s lucky. She found a man willing to support her career.”
I believed it too.
Both kids carry the Kensington name.
The older one, Cole Kensington, is twenty-one. Studying abroad at a prestigious university.
Poised. Smart. Always says the right thing.
The board members love him. They say he has the makings of the next Kensington leader.
The younger one, Sienna Kensington, is sixteen.
She’s never been easy to like.
At least, that’s what they told me.
Julian says she’s sensitive. She never appreciates what the family does for her, and she still walks around looking miserable all the time.
Cole says she’s young. Easily influenced by the wrong crowd. He’s tried to talk to her. It never works.
Sloane is even more direct.
“Mom, I don’t have time for this. If she won’t learn discipline, Julian can handle her.”
I didn’t believe it at first.
A Kensington girl, spoiled enough to waste every advantage she’s been given?
Then I looked into what she’d supposedly been getting.
Designer clothes. Private etiquette coaches. Riding lessons. Overseas camps.
Art collection consultations. Psychological counseling.
The things listed under her name were far beyond what any teenager should have been receiving.
I asked Julian once. “Does she really need all this?”
He gave me a pained smile. “Mom, she’s growing up. She cares about appearances.”
“I don’t dare say no. If I do, she throws a fit.”
Eventually, I got sick of it.
Every time Sienna came to the estate, she wore that same cold expression.
That night was a small family dinner before my seventieth birthday banquet.
No outsiders. Just family.
Sloane flew straight from the airport and sat down still reading contracts on her tablet.
Cole came back from abroad and brought me a handcrafted tea set.
Everyone smiled and praised him for being so thoughtful.
Only Sienna came in last. She carried a worn black backpack. Her sleeves were washed pale. The edge of her shoe had split open, like it might peel apart any second.
I frowned.
Sienna let out a small laugh and walked past the seat next to me, all the way to the far end of the table.
My irritation flared. I was about to scold her. Then I heard it again.
[Here we go.]
[They’re all putting on such a good show.]
[Grandma probably thinks I’m the most ungrateful brat in the family again.]
I froze.
Who the hell was talking?
