THE SERVANT HUSBAND IS THE QUADRILLIONAIRE HEIR

Chapter 8

MICHAEL'S POV

I entered the banquet hall just in time to see Sarah's father, Robert, leading their small group quietly along the perimeter of the room, clearly trying to avoid drawing attention.

 The third floor of the Grandview Hotel was magnificent—crystal chandeliers cast warm light over elegantly dressed guests, and the tables were set with fine china and gleaming silverware.

But their attempt at discretion failed immediately.

"Well, well, look what crawled in," came a mocking voice from across the room. Sarah's uncle Richard approached with his daughter Isabella beside him, both wearing expressions of barely concealed disdain.

"Uncle Richard," Robert said stiffly, forcing a polite smile.

"Don't 'Uncle Richard' me," he sneered. "I'm surprised you had the nerve to show your faces here after what your precious daughter did to the family company."

Isabella laughed cruelly. "Speaking of Sarah, where's that useless husband of hers? Too embarrassed to bring him along?"

"Michael had... other obligations," Tina said through gritted teeth.

"Other obligations?" Richard scoffed. "You mean like begging for more handouts? I heard Sarah actually embezzled company funds to pay for that man's mother's medical bills. A traitor to her own family!"

Sarah's face went pale, but she held her chin high. "I did what I thought was right."

"Right?" Isabella's voice rose with indignation. "You stole from us! From your own family! To help some nobody's dying mother!"

"She wasn't stealing," Robert protested weakly, but Richard cut him off.

"Face the facts, Robert. Your branch of the family has contributed nothing—absolutely nothing—to the Fletcher legacy. You don't deserve to sit with the real family members."

He gestured dismissively toward a corner table where hotel staff were setting up a simple buffet. "You can eat with the workers. That's more appropriate for your... station."

The humiliation burned in Robert's eyes, but he had no choice. The family hierarchy was absolute, and they were at the bottom.

Just as they began moving toward the designated table, a commanding voice cut through the chatter.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Every head in the room turned. Grandmother Elena Fletcher stood in the entrance, her silver hair perfectly styled, wearing a black evening gown that spoke of old money and absolute authority. At eighty-three, she still commanded the room like a queen.

"Mother," Richard stammered, clearly caught off guard. "I was just... organizing the seating arrangements."

"By relegating my son's family to eat with the staff?" Her voice could have frozen champagne. "Robert, Tina, Sarah—come sit at the main table. We need to have a conversation."

The shock rippled through the room. Grandmother Fletcher had ignored Robert's family for years, treating them like unwelcome charity cases. This sudden attention was unprecedented.

Tina's face lit up with barely concealed delight. She leaned toward Robert and whispered, "It's happening! Derek's influence is finally paying off!"

As they approached the main table, Grandmother Fletcher's entire demeanor shifted. She smiled warmly at Derek, who had been standing quietly beside Sarah.

"Mr. Manning, how wonderful that you could join us tonight. Your presence truly honors our family."

Derek inclined his head graciously. "The honor is mine, Mrs. Fletcher. Your family's reputation precedes you."

Richard and Isabella exchanged confused glances, clearly bewildered by their mother's sudden change in attitude.

"I must apologize for my son's rudeness," Grandmother Fletcher continued, shooting a sharp look at Richard. "It seems he's forgotten his manners."

"It's quite alright," Derek replied smoothly. "Family dynamics can be... complex."

Grandmother Fletcher turned her attention to the room at large. "I want everyone to appreciate what Mr. Manning has accomplished for us tonight. Securing the entire third floor of the Grandview Hotel for our celebration—do you realize what an achievement this is?"

Murmurs of impressed agreement rippled through the gathered family members.

"Even the Weston family has never managed to book the third floor for their events," she continued. "This is a great honor for the Fletcher name."

Derek waved his hand modestly. "It was a small matter, really. If Sarah is happy, I'd be honored to arrange for your birthday celebration to be held here every year."

He paused, his expression becoming more serious. "I've also heard that the family business has been facing some challenges lately. I'd like to offer an investment of one hundred million dollars to help stabilize operations."

Gasps echoed around the table. One hundred million was more money than most of them had ever seen discussed in one conversation.

"However," Derek continued, his eyes finding Sarah, "I did discuss this matter with Sarah before the banquet, and she seemed... reluctant to accept my offer."

Grandmother Fletcher's expression immediately darkened. Her gaze swung to Sarah like a laser sight. "Is this true? You refused Mr. Manning's generous offer?"

Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "It's... complicated."

"Complicated?" Grandmother Fletcher's voice rose. "What could possibly be complicated about accepting help for the family?"

"Tell her, Sarah," Derek said with false gentleness. "Tell your grandmother why you refused."

The room fell silent except for the soft clinking of crystal as waiters continued setting up nearby tables. Sarah looked trapped, her eyes darting between Derek's expectant face and her grandmother's increasingly stern expression.

"He..." Sarah's voice was barely above a whisper. "He didn't just want to discuss business."

"Speak up," Grandmother Fletcher commanded.

Sarah took a shaky breath. "He wanted to sleep with me. That was his condition for the investment."

I expected outrage. I expected Grandmother Fletcher to throw Derek out of the hotel. Instead, her expression grew even colder—but not toward Derek.

"And you refused?" she asked Sarah incredulously.

"I... yes. I'm married. I couldn't—"

"You ungrateful child!" Grandmother Fletcher's voice cracked like a whip. "Do you realize what you've thrown away? Mr. Manning's interest in you is a blessing, not an insult!"

Isabella nodded eagerly. "Exactly! Who do you think you are to turn down someone like Derek?"

"You're being selfish," another family member chimed in. "Thinking only of yourself instead of what's best for the family!"

"But I'm married!" Sarah protested, her voice breaking. "I can't just—"

"Married to a worthless nobody who's brought nothing but shame to our name," Grandmother Fletcher snapped. "Your so-called husband isn't even here to defend you."

Sarah's face crumpled, but she held her ground. "It doesn't matter. It's wrong."

Grandmother Fletcher's smile turned predatory. "Very well, dear. If you're so committed to your moral high ground, then you can repay every cent you embezzled from the company. Today."

The color drained from Sarah's face. "What?"

"Four hundred and thirty-seven thousand dollars, plus penalties for unauthorized use of company funds," Grandmother Fletcher continued remorselessly. "Pay it back right now, or I'll have you arrested for embezzlement before dessert is served."

"You can't be serious," Robert stammered.

"Dead serious. The police are one phone call away."

Sarah looked around the table desperately, but found no allies. Even her own parents looked uncertain, torn between defending their daughter and protecting themselves from Grandmother Fletcher's wrath.

"I don't have that kind of money," Sarah whispered.

"Then perhaps you should reconsider Mr. Manning's generous offer," Grandmother Fletcher said with cold satisfaction.

Derek leaned forward, his expression mock-sympathetic. "Sarah, I'm willing to forgive the debt entirely if you'll just be reasonable. One night. That's all I'm asking."

The room held its breath. Sarah sat frozen, trapped between impossible choices, her world crumbling around her.

That's when I stepped into the room.

"That won't be necessary," I said clearly, my voice cutting through the tension. "I'll repay the money on my wife's behalf."

Every head turned toward me, and the collective gasp that rose from the table was audible across the entire floor.