William Benjamin Owens had been surviving and not really living since his mother's death. Barely acknowledging his existence, his father and stepmother exiled him from his home at the tender age of sixteen giving him a moderate inheritance and taking away his very name. If not for the protection of his father's man of business, William would have been all alone in the world. But fate refused to abandon him. Devoting himself to his younger sister's protection and committed to love only one woman for the rest of his life, he overcame the pain and rejections of his youth to realize a birthright his father had brutally abandoned. Is our destiny written at birth or are we the authors of our own stories? Was he graced by God, or was his grace by blood?