Page 67

Mother's ultimatum echoed in my mind.
Choose wisely.or Lili loses everything.
The cruel irony was that no matter what I chose, we'd already lost everything that mattered. Mother had orchestrated the perfect checkmate—every move I could make would result in losing either my career or the woman I loved. And in the morning, I'd have to decide which loss I could live with.
The photograph stared back at me from my desk, a moment of genuine happiness now transformed into evidence of professional misconduct. Love as liability. Joy as grounds for disbarment.
I finally understood why Mother had never remarried after Father's death.
Love was too dangerous when you had an empire to protect.
CHAPTER 16
Lili
The news was already breaking on the ITV morning show as I threw clothes into my suitcase with shaking hands.
"...Gardens & Home Television's UK division has been sold through law firm Pemberton & Associates in what sources describe as a 'forced acquisition' following financial irregularities. The company's popular American host, Lili Anderton, whose late-night gardening shows gained a devoted following, will not be retained by the new ownership..."
"Well, I'll be damned," I whispered to the empty room. All those nights I'd worried about Edward's career being destroyed by our relationship, and it turned out Victoria had been planning to destroy mine all along.
I fumbled for the remote, turning up the volume as the perfectly coiffed presenter continued her clinical recitation of my professional destruction.
"...controversy surrounding the acquisition has been compounded by reports of a romantic relationship between Pemberton attorney, Edward Grosvenor and Gardens & Home host, Lili Anderton. Sources close to the Grosvenor family suggest the relationship created significant conflicts of interest that may have influenced the acquisition timeline..."
My legs gave out, and I sank onto the narrow bed in the staff quarters that had been my home for quite a few weeks.
Financial irregularities. Forced acquisition.
Victoria hadn't just orchestrated the scandal—she'd actively destroyed my company while Edward and I were busy fighting for our relationship.
The phone rang, jarring me from my shock.
Malcolm Pemberton's name flashed on the screen, and I answered with numb fingers.
"Miss Anderton? I'm calling to inform you that your employment with Gardens & Home Television has been terminated effective immediately. The acquisition was finalized this morning, and all UK staff positions have been eliminated."
"What about the retention clauses Edward negotiated?"
"I'm afraid those arrangements have been rescinded. The board determined that maintaining your employment would create an untenable appearance of impropriety. Your final paycheck will be deposited within seven business days."
The clinical language couldn't disguise what this meant. I was being fired not just from my job, but from my entire life in England. Thirty days. That's how long I had before my visa expired and I'd be persona non grata in the UK.
Not that it mattered now—Victoria had made sure there was nothing left for me to stay for.
"I see." My voice sounded surprisingly steady, even though inside I felt like I was free-falling. "And my colleagues? The production staff?"
"All terminated. The entire UK operation is being dissolved. I'm sorry, Miss Anderton, but this decision is final."
The line went dead, leaving me alone with the devastating reality.
The thing about having your entire life dismantled in a five-minute phone call is that shock has its own strange mercy- eventhough I knew it was coming. I felt detached from the woman whose career had just been obliterated, like I was watching someone else's tragedy unfold on a screen.
I turned back to the television, where the story had moved on to footage of the Gardens & Home studio being emptied. Equipment rolled out on dollies, security guards preventing former employees from retrieving personal items.
Watching strangers cart away the set where I'd helped thousands of people discover the joy of growing things felt like watching my own funeral. That studio had been more than a job—it had been my chance to prove that a girl from nowhere could build something meaningful.
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: