“He cannot do that,” Evelyn said, her voice shaking as she gripped the edge of the desk. “This is your home, Ethan. Your father left it to you.”

Ethan did not look up from the screen.

His thumb scrolled slowly, the blue light casting sharp shadows across his cheekbones.

“He is using a clause in the corporate bylaws,” Ethan said quietly.

“What clause?” I asked.

“The one regarding domestic staff security clearances,” he replied, finally locking his phone and setting it face-down on the mahogany desk. “Richard claims that because you have family ties to past litigation against the firm, you represent an active liability.”

“Litigation?” I whispered. “My family never sued anyone.”

“It does not matter to Richard,” Ethan said.

He walked over to the tall arched window and looked out into the darkness of the estate grounds.

The yellow security lights along the perimeter fence flickered in the distance.

“He wants you gone before the lawyers can ask questions,” Ethan added.

“But we have nowhere to go,” Evelyn said, her voice dropping to a frail whisper. “My apartment in the city is gone, Ethan. Everything we have is here now.”