I could hear the faint sound of paper rustling in Richard’s office, miles away in Manhattan.

“I am protecting the legacy,” Richard said coldly. “Something you have failed to do since your father died.”

“By throwing a mother and her child onto the street?” Ethan asked.

“By removing a potential threat,” Richard corrected. “We both know what happened thirty years ago, Ethan. Or at least, I know, and I intend to keep it from becoming public knowledge.”

Evelyn gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth.

Ethan glanced at her, his eyes narrowing as he processed her reaction.

“The girl leaves by noon tomorrow,” Richard said. “If she is still on the premises when the board convenes, I will have security escort her off the property.”

“Do not try it,” Ethan warned.

“It is already set in motion,” Richard said. “Sleep well, Ethan.”

The line went dead with a soft beep.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I looked at the heavy velvet curtains, the silver-framed portraits of Ethan’s ancestors, and the vast wealth that suddenly felt like a cage.