“I have to approve the final purchase order,” Victoria argued weakly, trying to reach for her tablet on the nightstand. “If we stop buying now, the stock rebounds.”
A hand snatched the tablet away.
Lady Beatrice stood by the bed. She didn’t look like a grandmother; she looked like the iron-willed matriarch who had once run the estate with a terrifying grip.
“You are not approving anything,” Beatrice said, sliding the tablet into her own pocket. “You are lying down.”
“Beatrice, the Board is waiting for–“
“The Board can wait until hell freezes over,” Beatrice snapped. She walked to the door and turned the heavy brass lock.
She pulled a chair from the corner and placed it firmly in front of the door. She sat down, crossing her arms.
“I spent forty years protecting this house from enemies outside,” Beatrice declared. “I will not let you destroy the heir from the inside because you don’t know when to stop working.”
She looked at Victoria, her expression softening just a fraction. “Sleep, Victoria. I am the Gatekeeper now. No one gets past the dragon.”