Chapter 1

After giving birth to the family's first grandson, my sister-in-law Sharon Fox stayed up that night to post the baby's birth certificate online, the surname listed as her own.

"I didn't have a child to carry on the Gilbert line. A modern woman has the naming right."

She thought she'd smashed the chains of some feudal past, that she was the heroine of her own story, and in the same breath she sneered at me for having had a daughter.

"So what if it's a girl? She still ends up with her father's name. You deserve to spend your whole life as this rich family's breeding machine."

My mother-in-law was so furious she landed in the hospital, while Sharon live-streamed from outside the ward, holding forth on female independence.

I calmly tucked the blanket around Myrtle Gilbert, then turned and took over the corporate seal for every auction house the Gilberts owned.

She could have her vanity and her clicks. As for the empire generations of Gilberts had built, I would graciously accept it on my daughter's behalf.

.....

The smell of disinfectant hung thick in the hospital corridor.

Sharon stood at the ward door with a selfie stick, live-streaming.

"Ladies, the surname on that birth certificate is Fox. My name."

"A modern woman carries a child for ten months. Why should that child automatically take a man's name?"

"I'm here to break the feudal rules of these old families. I won't be anyone's tool for having babies."

Tens of thousands of comments flooded her stream, all likes and praise.

In the bed, Myrtle's face had gone ashen gray.

The night Sharon delivered the first grandson, she'd put the birth certificate online with her own surname on it.

The old woman's angina hit her on the spot, and an ambulance rushed her into intensive care overnight.

She had barely stabilized before Sharon showed up at the door with her whole team.

I sat at the bedside, wiping the cold sweat from Myrtle's forehead.

Out in the hall, the voice pitched higher.

"Someone's asking me how my sister-in-law is doing, the one who had a girl."

Sharon gave a soft laugh at the camera.

"Oh, her. She had a daughter and trots along happily under the Gilbert name."

"She deserves to be this family's servant for life, a breeding machine with no self at all."

"In families like this, some women have knelt so long they've forgotten how to stand."

Agreement and mockery scrolled past in an instant.

In the bed, Myrtle's fingers trembled. She was trying to pull off the oxygen tube and sit up.

I laid my hand over the back of hers.

"Mom, the doctor said you can't get worked up right now."

Myrtle looked at me, her eyes shining wet.

She had run the Gilbert holdings for decades, a force in the boardroom. Never once had she taken this kind of insult to her face from someone half her age.

"Daisy Pruitt... what did the Gilberts ever do to deserve this, marrying in a curse like her..."

I lifted the cup of warm water and moistened her lips with a cotton swab.

"Don't rush. There's plenty of time yet."

The commotion outside was escorted downstairs by the security guards who arrived.

Myrtle got her breathing even and looked at me.

"Where's Clement Gilbert? His wife is out there making a scene like this. Where the hell did he go?"

Clement is my older brother-in-law, Sharon's husband.

I didn't hide it. I told her the truth.

"He went out of town to look at that art-investment project. Said his phone died, no way to reach him."

Myrtle closed her eyes. A single tear slid from the corner.

To be fair, the Gilberts had treated Sharon well.

She came from an ordinary family. Back then Clement swore he'd marry no one else, and though the old man and Myrtle weren't pleased, they still gave a sky-high bride gift and brought her in with every honor.

Then, the moment she was through the door, she started building her "clear-eyed truth-teller" persona online.

Myrtle gave her jewelry; she called it the objectification of women.

Myrtle tried to teach her the account books; she called it a capitalist's tool of exploitation.

Now that she'd had a child, she'd stepped right on the family's face to raise herself a blank monument reading "modern woman."

Myrtle's eyes snapped open. She turned her hand and gripped my wrist.

"Daisy, the Gilbert auction house has always been mine to run."

"The eldest is soft. That woman has him wrapped around her finger."

"The second keeps to himself. He doesn't fight for anything."

Myrtle held my eyes.

"You're the one with real resolve in you. Starting tomorrow, you go take charge at the auction house."

I stilled.

"Mom, but Sharon's side..."

"Isn't she so high-minded? Doesn't she treat money like dirt?"

Myrtle tugged at her dry lips.

"Then she won't touch a single cent of Gilbert money."

With that, she signaled me to take a tianhuang-stone corporate seal from the drawer beside the bed.

I took the seal and tucked the blanket back around her.

"Mom, rest and get well. Whatever storm's out there, I'll hold it off."

When I stepped out of the ward, Robert Gilbert was leaning against the corridor wall, waiting for me.

"Mom asleep?"

"Yeah. Asleep."

I showed him the seal in my hand.

Robert raised an eyebrow.

"She gave this to you?"

"Scared?" I asked him. "Take this, and the eldest's side is going to blow up."

Robert reached over and put an arm around my shoulders.

"Let them. The Gilbert legacy can't really be left to someone whose only skill is live-streaming."

I leaned into him and let out a long breath.

Sharon could have her vanity and her clicks.

As for the empire generations of Gilberts had built, I would graciously accept it on my daughter's behalf.