Daniel stared at the bare mattress, the tan from his tropical getaway instantly draining from his face.
Down the hall, Celeste’s high heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she wandered toward us.
"Babe, why is it so quiet in here?" Celeste asked, popping her head into the doorway with a bright smile.
Her eyes landed on me, and her smile vanished into a tight, awkward grimace.
"Claire, where is Noah?" Daniel demanded, his voice finally finding its volume as he stepped toward me.
I didn’t flinch or step back like I used to do whenever he raised his voice.
"He is somewhere safe," I replied evenly, my gaze locked onto his.
"What does that mean?" he snapped, running a hand through his windblown hair.
"It means he is under round-the-clock care after nearly dying of sepsis four nights ago," I said, each word sharp and deliberate.
Daniel blinked, his mouth opening slightly as he tried to process the sentence.
"Sepsis?" he repeated, looking back at the empty crib as if it might offer him an explanation.
"That was the night I called you nineteen times while you were drinking mojitos on a yacht," I continued, stepping closer to him.
"My phone was on do not disturb, Claire, you know how stressed I’ve been!" he shouted, immediately shifting into defense mode.
"You took my car keys and my wallet, Daniel," I said, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
Celeste shifted uncomfortably by the door, clutching her new leather handbag to her chest.
"I didn’t take your wallet on purpose, it must have been in the console," Daniel argued, though the flicker of guilt in his eyes told a different story.
"Mrs. Alvarez had to break through the back door when she heard me screaming," I told him, feeling the phantom ache in my chest from that terrifying night.
"Is he okay now?" Daniel asked, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"He is recovering at my sister’s house with a private nurse, far away from you," I stated.
"You can’t keep my son from me in my own house!" Daniel roared, his face flushing red with sudden anger.
"Actually, I can, and this isn’t your house anymore," I replied, holding up the thick manila folder.
Celeste let out a small, nervous scoff from the hallway.
"Don’t be ridiculous, Claire, Daniel told me your name isn’t even on the deed," Celeste chimed in, trying to sound confident.
I turned my head slowly to look at the twenty-four-year-old woman wearing a watch paid for with my family’s dividends.
"My name isn’t on the deed because the property is held by Oakridge Holdings LLC," I explained calmly.
Daniel frowned, a bead of sweat forming near his temple.
"Wait a minute, my mother set up that LLC before we got married," Daniel said, waving a dismissive hand.
"Your mother tried to set it up, Daniel, but her lawyers were sloppy," I corrected him, opening the folder to the first tabbed page.
"When you needed startup capital for your firm four years ago, I liquidated my pre-marital trust to fund the LLC," I reminded him.
"That was a marital contribution!" he barked, stepping closer to snatch the papers.
I pulled the folder back just out of his reach, a cold smile touching my lips.
"It was a secured loan with a default clause triggered by abandonment or marital infidelity," I said, watching the color leave his face again.
"You told me those were standard tax documents!" Daniel gasped, his voice cracking.
"You didn’t read them because you were too busy telling me I was too emotional to understand corporate law," I replied smoothly.
"My former partner, Marcus Vance, filed the execution of the default clause with the court yesterday morning," I added.
"Vivian said you had nothing!" Celeste blurted out, looking frantically at Daniel.
"Vivian is about to find out that the allowance she draws from Daniel’s company was frozen two hours ago," I said, turning a page.
Daniel grabbed his phone from his pocket, his thumbs flying across the screen in a panic.
"Why can’t I log into the corporate portal?" he whispered, staring horrified at the glowing screen.
"Because as the sole managing member of Oakridge Holdings, I terminated your position as CEO for gross negligence and misuse of company funds," I stated.
"Misuse of funds?" Daniel choked out, looking up at me with wild, desperate eyes.
"You booked the flights, the presidential suite, and that diamond bracelet on Celeste’s wrist using the company credit card," I pointed out.
Celeste instinctively covered her wrist with her hand, taking a step backward into the hallway.
"Daniel, what is she talking about?" Celeste demanded, her voice rising in panic.
"Shut up, Celeste, just shut up for a second!" Daniel snapped at her, pressing his palms against his forehead.
"Furthermore, a judge granted me an emergency order of protection and temporary sole custody of Noah this morning," I continued, pulling out the stamped court order.
"No judge would do that without hearing my side!" Daniel yelled, his chest heaving.
"They do when the hospital social worker testifies that the father left a newborn to die without transportation while posting beach photos online," I said coldly.
The heavy front door downstairs swung open, and heavy footsteps echoed in the foyer.
"Mr. Miller, I suggest you lower your voice," Marcus Vance said as he reached the top of the stairs, flanked by two county sheriff’s deputies.
Daniel froze, looking from the uniformed officers back to me.
"Claire, please, we can talk about this," Daniel pleaded, his arrogant demeanor completely shattered.
"You have thirty minutes to pack your personal clothing and vacate the premises," the lead deputy announced, resting a hand on his utility belt.
"And the jewelry bought with corporate funds stays here, right on the dresser," Marcus added, adjusting his glasses.
Celeste looked at the deputies, then at Daniel, her eyes wide with betrayal.
"You told me you were a self-made millionaire!" she shrieked at him, ripping the diamond bracelet off her wrist and throwing it at his chest.
"Celeste, wait, don’t do this right now," Daniel begged, reaching for her arm as the bracelet clattered to the floor.
"Don’t touch me, you pathetic liar!" she spat, spinning on her heel and practically running down the stairs with her luggage.
We listened in silence as the front door slammed shut behind her.
Daniel stood alone in the middle of the nursery, looking smaller than I had ever seen him.
"Claire, I’m sorry, I was overwhelmed by the baby, I made a mistake," he whimpered, tears finally spilling down his cheeks.
"Men make mistakes, Daniel, isn’t that what your mother says?" I asked softly.
He nodded eagerly, grasping at the tiny thread of hope he thought I was offering.
"And mothers protect the family," I finished, handing him the custody summons.
"My family is just me and Noah now, and you have twenty-five minutes left to get out of my house."
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