Hildegarde refused to believe it. She pulled out her phone and called her secretary, demanding verification.
The answer came back.
That fifteen percent was registered under Wilfred Dickerson's name.
"You... you..."
For once, Hildegarde Pruitt had absolutely nothing to say.
Hildegarde couldn't understand it. How could a man who spent his days puttering around the kitchen, hovering over his daughter, and orbiting her life possibly have such keen financial instincts?
How had he quietly become the Pruitt Group's second-largest shareholder, right after her, without anyone noticing?
She had forgotten that before their marriage, the man standing before her had been hailed by countless people as a prodigy—someone who could "perceive the seed before it sprouted and see the future before it arrived."
"Daddy's bullying Mommy! Daddy's a bad guy!"
Hilary came running in like a gust of wind, bracing herself with her small hands as she charged forward.
She rammed her head hard against Wilfred's thigh.
Her little cheeks puffed out like a balloon.
"Daddy, can't you be more considerate? Mommy works so hard, and you don't do anything at all. Now you want to take Mommy's money? That's wrong!"