Chapter 1

The phone call came from the ranch foreman, his voice cracking with a panic I had never heard before.

"Ms. Jocelyn, you need to come. It's your grandmother. It's Maria."

I dropped the antique porcelain teacup I was polishing. It shattered on the marble floor of our Dallas penthouse, the one my husband, Matthew, was so proud of.

I drove the two hours to West Texas in a blur, my hands shaking on the steering wheel.

I found her on the floor of the ranch house porch. Maria Fuller, the woman who'd faced down oil barons and built an empire, was crumpled and small. One side of her face drooped, her eyes wide with a terror that couldn't find words. A dark bruise was blooming on her temple.

The foreman, his face pale, told me what happened. He said he found her like this after hearing a scream. He said Sabrina Chavez's grandfather, a ranch hand we'd employed for thirty years, was seen running from the house just moments before.

The paramedics arrived, their voices a low hum against the rising siren of my own fear. "Massive stroke," one of them said. "Brought on by trauma."

At the hospital, I tried to call Matthew. He was supposed to be at a tech conference in Silicon Valley. Voicemail. I called again. Voicemail. I sent a text. Grandma had a stroke. It was an assault. I'm at West Texas General.

Hours later, as I sat by Maria' s silent form, watching the machines breathe for her, Matthew finally walked in. He didn't look worried. He looked angry.

"What the hell is this, Jocelyn?"

"Matthew, thank God. Her own ranch hand, Sabrina's grandfather, he attacked her. The police are on their way."

Matthew' s face hardened. He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my skin.

"You will do no such thing."

I stared at him, confused. "What are you talking about? He assaulted an eighty-year-old woman."

"He said she came onto him," Matthew hissed, his voice low and venomous. "An old woman, probably drunk, making a fool of herself. You are not going to ruin that family and my company's reputation over this."

"My company? What does this have to do with your company?"

"Sabrina is my executive assistant. Her grandfather is a loyal employee. I will not have this scandal. Drop it."

I pulled my arm away, my voice trembling with rage. "Are you insane? Look at her! She needs justice."

He smirked, a cruel, ugly expression. "She needs an experimental treatment from Switzerland. It costs a fortune. A fortune you don't have."

He took out his phone. "Press charges, and I will cut you off. No treatment. No money. Nothing. Let's see how long your precious grandmother lasts then."

He turned and walked out, leaving me in the silent, beeping room with the wreckage of my life.