But during those few days, her resentment only festered.
Especially after hearing the thinly veiled taunts from the other society ladies in her circle.
"Oh, Marianne, it looks like you'll have to walk on eggshells around your daughter-in-law from now on."
"I hear Dr. Hart is a figure of national importance now. She probably wouldn't even look twice at your personal allowance."
Marianne was so furious she smashed a tea set worth tens of thousands of dollars.
She refused to believe it. Was there really a woman in the world who didn't love money? Especially someone like Grace, who came from a poor background and had been abused for years.
So, on a sunny afternoon, just as Grace was finishing an experiment, she was "invited" by two bodyguards to a high-end private club.
In the private room, Marianne was dressed in a custom-made designer dress, elegantly sipping tea. When Grace entered, she didn't even bother to look up.
"Sit."
Grace didn't stand on ceremony, pulling out a chair and sitting down. She hadn't had time to change out of her lab coat, and a small blue stain from a reagent was visible on her cuff.
To Marianne, this was just further proof that she was messy and undignified.
"Busy day, Dr. Hart?" Marianne began, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"It's been alright. We just overcame a hurdle with a virus, so I have a moment," Grace replied, calm and composed.
Marianne sneered and pulled a check from her purse, slapping it on the table.
"Here's ten million dollars," she said, tilting her chin up and looking at Grace with a condescending gaze.
"Leave my son."
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