with him.
Then Lily moved in her sleep, her fist brushing Miles’s blanket.
Claire did not lower her voice.
‘Get out.’
Adrian laughed once.
‘You do not have that authority anymore.’
‘In this room, I do.’
He leaned closer.
‘Listen carefully. Briarwood belongs to Celeste now. She paid to save it. I can provide Miles with a home, staff, education, legacy. You have no income, no house, and no leverage. A court will see that.’
Claire reached into the side pocket of her hospital bag.
Her fingers touched the sealed envelope.
For a moment, she thought of opening it and ending him there, beside the bassinets, while his children slept.
But Mara’s warning echoed in her mind. Carefully.
Claire smiled.
Adrian mistook it for collapse.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘You are finally being sensible.’
‘No,’ Claire said. ‘I am finally being quiet for a reason.’
He narrowed his eyes.
The door opened. Mara stepped in.
‘Mr. Marlow,’ she said, ‘do not speak to my client again without going through me.’
Adrian’s face darkened.
‘Your client?’
‘Yes.’
‘This is a family matter.’
Mara picked up the papers from Claire’s bed without asking him and flipped through the first few pages. Her expression changed on the fourth page.
‘Interesting,’ she said.
Adrian reached for the folder.
Mara moved it out of his reach.
‘You prepared a temporary guardianship petition naming Celeste Vale as guardian of Miles.’
Claire’s breath stopped.
Adrian said nothing.
Mara turned another page.
‘And here is a signature page purporting to bear Claire’s consent.’
Claire looked at him.
‘You forged my signature?’
‘It is not filed,’ Adrian snapped. ‘It is a draft.’
‘A draft you brought to a woman recovering from surgery and childbirth,’ Mara said coldly. ‘Leave now.’
For the first time, Adrian seemed to understand he was not controlling the room.
His eyes went from Mara to Claire to the babies.
‘This is not over.’
Claire held his gaze.
‘No,’ she said. ‘It is not.’
By the next morning, fog lay over Briarwood Hall like a warning.
The iron gates opened at 7:12 a.m. for two marked patrol cars, a civil enforcement van, and Mara Bell’s black sedan. A locksmith followed behind them in a dented truck.
Inside the house, Celeste was in the breakfast room wearing Adrian’s robe over silk pajamas. She was drinking coffee from a porcelain cup that had belonged to Claire’s grandmother, not the Marlows. Claire had brought the set with her when she married, the only piece of her old home that Vivienne had not managed to store away.
Celeste looked up when the officers entered.
‘Can I help you?’
The senior officer removed his hat.
‘We are looking for Adrian Marlow.’
Adrian came down the staircase moments later, barefoot and furious.
‘Who let you in?’
‘Mr. Marlow,’ the officer said, ‘we are here to serve a civil possession order and secure the premises pending review of a suspected fraudulent transfer.’
Celeste set down the cup.
‘Fraudulent transfer?’
Mara stepped forward and opened her folder.
‘Briarwood Hall is owned by the Harrow Trust. Claire Marlow is the sole beneficiary. The deed was recorded before your engagement party.’
Vivienne appeared at the landing in a pale robe, one hand at her throat.
‘That is impossible.’
‘It is public record,’ Mara said.
Adrian’s face turned
