Chapter 5
By noon, the papers were filed.
Emergency temporary custody granted to me.
Restraining order served to Victoria at the mansion.
Marcus called me. His voice was tight.
"She's lawyered up. Clayton Rice. The worst of the worst. He's already filed a counter-claim. Says you abducted the children during a psychotic break. Says you've been using drugs. Says you're an unfit father who has been emotionally absent for years and is now lashing out at his wife."
I laughed. A cold, bitter sound.
"Let him say whatever he wants. We have the medical report. We have James's photos. We have the truth."
"Truth doesn't always win in court, Nathan. You know that. And the press... the press is already running with her version. Her brother's network broke the story ten minutes ago. BILLIONAIRE TYCOON SNATCHES CHILDREN FROM DEVOTED MOTHER. It's already trending."
I walked to the window of the penthouse.
Sure enough. There were already three news vans parked on the street below. Cameras pointed up at my windows.
"She's going to play the victim," Marcus continued. "She will cry on every talk show that will have her. She will talk about the stress of raising three children alone while her husband travels the world. She will make you look like a monster. We need to be ready."
"Then we fight fire with fire," I said. "I'm not going to hide. I'm not going to let her define this narrative. But I won't use the children. Not ever. They've been through enough."
"Agreed. But we need to move fast. The preliminary hearing is in three days. We need all our witnesses lined up. All our evidence organized. And Nathan?"
"Yes."
"Prepare yourself. She is going to say things about you that will make you sick. She is going to lie. And she is going to be very, very convincing. That's what she does. That's who she is."
I hung up.
Turned around.
Leo was standing in the doorway. He had heard everything.
"Is Mommy going to take us back?" he asked. His lip was trembling.
I went to him. Knelt down. Took his small face in my hands.
"Listen to me very carefully," I said. "No one is ever taking you away from me again. No one. Not Mommy. Not judges. Not anyone. Do you understand? You are safe here. With me. Forever."
He nodded. But his eyes were still scared.
That afternoon, the staff from the mansion started arriving.
One by one.
The cook. The maid. The driver. The two gardeners.
They all had stories.
They all had evidence.
The cook told me Victoria routinely skipped the children's meals if they misbehaved. Sometimes for two days at a time. She had been sneaking them sandwiches for a year.
The maid showed me text messages. Victoria ordering her to lie to me when I called. To say the children were playing outside. Or with friends. Or already asleep. Anything to keep me from talking to them.
The driver had kept a log. Every time Victoria took the children to "special doctors"—doctors who never asked questions. Doctors who wrote prescriptions for sedatives when the kids were "too loud."
I sat there and listened to all of it.
My heart turned heavier and heavier with each word.
How had I not seen?
How had I been so blind?
So stupid?
That evening, I was making dinner for the kids when my phone rang.
Private number.
I answered.
"You think you've won," Victoria said. Her voice was cold. Calm. Terrifyingly composed. "You think a few photographs and some servant stories are enough to destroy me? You don't know who you're dealing with, Nathan. I have spent my whole life learning how to make people believe exactly what I want them to believe."
"I saw you," I said. "With the riding crop. Over my children. That's all I need."
"Did you?" She laughed softly. "Or did you see what you wanted to see? A tired mother. Frustrated. At the end of her rope. Raising three children alone while her husband chases money across the world. Which story do you think a jury will believe? The poor, stressed mother? Or the absent billionaire who suddenly decided he wants to be a father?"
"You're sick," I said.
"I'm winning," she corrected. "And by the time I'm done with you, you'll be lucky if you get to see them once a month, supervised, in a room with a glass wall. You will never have a relationship with your children again. I will make sure of it."
She hung up.
I stood there. Holding the phone.
The kids were in the living room. Watching a cartoon. Laughing. For the first time all day.
I looked at them.
My beautiful, brave, broken babies.
Victoria thought she was winning.
She had no idea.
May you like
A mother who hurts her children...
has already lost.
