The invitation arrived unexpectedly.
A cream-colored envelope bearing an ornate red seal sat neatly on Grace Wu's desk when she returned from lunch. Emily offered no explanation—just a knowing smile as she passed by, cradling her cup of tea.
Grace's gaze lingered on the envelope for a moment before carefully sliding a finger under the flap.
Inside was a single card, handwritten in fluid strokes.
Madam Chan requests your presence.
7 PM. The Rose Pavilion.
Grace's brow arched slightly. Madam Chan rarely summoned people outside of formal functions.
The matriarch of the Chan family—Rocky's grandmother—didn't engage with most of his business associates. She preferred to operate behind the scenes, wielding influence through whispers and well-timed conversations.
In the past timeline, Grace had only encountered Madam Chan during major company events. Polite, distant. She never sought Grace out personally.
So why now?
Grace traced the edge of the card thoughtfully.
Whatever this was, it wasn't a casual invitation.
By the time Grace arrived at the Rose Pavilion, dusk had settled over Macau, and the faint hum of cicadas whispered from the gardens that lined the outer courtyard.
The restaurant was old money—quiet, understated, and exclusive. Its reputation spoke louder than any sign on the door.
A waiter escorted Grace through the softly lit dining hall, guiding her toward a private room at the far end.
Madam Chan was already seated inside, her delicate hands cradling a porcelain cup of tea. She looked up as Grace entered, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly—not out of malice, but calculation.
"Miss Wu," Madam Chan greeted, gesturing to the seat across from her. "I appreciate you coming on such short notice."
Grace bowed her head politely. "The invitation was unexpected. I wasn't about to refuse."
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Madam Chan's lips as Grace lowered herself into the seat.
"You're practical," Madam Chan noted, pouring a second cup of tea. "I like that about you."
Grace accepted the cup carefully, letting the steam rise between them in comfortable silence.
"If you don't mind me asking," Grace began softly, "what prompted this meeting?"
Madam Chan's gaze drifted toward the window, where the faint outlines of lanterns swayed gently in the evening breeze.
"There are few things I take lightly, Miss Wu," she said, swirling her tea in slow circles. "And family is not one of them."
Grace remained still, listening carefully.
"Rocky is impulsive," Madam Chan continued, her tone level but firm. "His choices have never been… stable. You've seen that firsthand."
Grace inclined her head.
"I have."
Madam Chan's eyes flicked back to her, sharp and searching.
"You stayed by his side longer than most. Why?"
Grace hesitated for a breath, weighing her response.
"I believed he could be better," Grace answered honestly. "I thought I could help steer him in the right direction."
Madam Chan hummed softly, as if unsurprised by the answer.
"And now?"
Grace's gaze held steady. "I no longer believe it's my place to do that."
For the first time that evening, Madam Chan's expression shifted—just barely.
Approval.
"You're wise to step back," Madam Chan remarked. "But stepping back doesn't mean you're free of him, Miss Wu."
Grace's fingers tightened slightly around the teacup.
"You think I'll be pulled back into Rocky's affairs?" Grace asked carefully.
Madam Chan's gaze sharpened.
"No," Madam Chan replied smoothly. "I think he'll drag you back."
The quiet weight of her words settled heavily between them.
Grace's eyes narrowed faintly.
Madam Chan wasn't issuing a warning—she was predicting inevitability.
Grace exhaled softly, setting the cup down.
"I've made it clear where I stand," Grace said, keeping her tone measured. "Rocky will need to learn to stand on his own."
Madam Chan regarded her carefully, nodding slowly.
"Perhaps," Madam Chan allowed. "But you underestimate how deeply my grandson clings to what he cannot control."
Grace didn't respond right away.
She didn't need to.
The truth lingered unspoken between them.
Finally, Madam Chan's expression softened, and she leaned back slightly in her chair.
"I've watched many people come and go from Rocky's life," Madam Chan said quietly. "Few have had the patience you did."
Grace arched a brow slightly. "And fewer still have left unscathed?"
Madam Chan chuckled softly, tapping her fingers lightly against the table.
"Exactly," she said, her eyes glinting with faint amusement.
Grace allowed herself a small smile.
"Then I'll consider myself fortunate," Grace replied.
The matriarch studied her for a moment longer before reaching into the silk pouch beside her. She slid a small folded envelope across the table.
Grace hesitated but accepted it carefully.
"What is this?"
"A favor," Madam Chan said smoothly. "One that I suspect you'll find useful in the near future."
Grace's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You're giving me leverage."
Madam Chan's smile deepened, though she didn't confirm or deny it.
"I believe in being prepared," Madam Chan replied. "Victor Zhou is not someone to underestimate."
Grace stiffened faintly at the mention of Victor's name.
So, this was about more than Rocky.
Madam Chan's eyes glinted knowingly.
"I'm not blind to what's happening," Madam Chan continued. "Victor has his hands in many places. Li Holdings included."
Grace folded the envelope, tucking it carefully into her coat pocket.
"I'll handle Victor," Grace said quietly.
Madam Chan's gaze softened just slightly.
"I expect you will," she replied. "For your sake—and for Lilly's."
Grace's fingers brushed against the envelope one last time, the weight of it lingering as she rose from her seat.
"Thank you, Madam Chan."
The matriarch offered her a final nod.
"Take care, Miss Wu," Madam Chan said, watching as Grace turned toward the door. "And don't wait until the roof collapses before reinforcing the foundation."
Grace paused briefly at the doorway, letting the words settle.
"I won't," Grace replied softly, stepping out into the quiet night.
As she walked away from the Rose Pavilion, the faint rustle of the envelope in her pocket felt heavier than it should have.
Madam Chan's favor was no small gesture.
Grace wasn't sure if it was a gift—or a burden.