Her smile widened.

“Excellent,” Vivian said into the phone. “Send the officers.”

She hung up and looked down at us from the top of the stairs.

“That was Judge Harrison,” Vivian said. “The emergency order has been signed.”

My heart stopped.

“You have ten minutes to say goodbye to your children, Clara,” Vivian said.

“You are a monster, Vivian,” I said, my voice trembling with rage.

“I am a mother protecting her family’s legacy,” Vivian replied, her voice smooth and unbothered. “Something you would know nothing about, Clara.”

“I just signed the papers, Mother,” Garrett said, his voice rising. “I acknowledged paternity. I surrendered my voting rights to Clara. The company is hers.”

Vivian froze.

For a fraction of a second, the mask of calm slipped from her face.

Her eyes darted to the manila folder in her hand, then back to Garrett.

“You did what?” she whispered.

“It’s over,” Garrett said. “The Board will vote you out tomorrow morning.”

Vivian gripped the wooden banister so hard her knuckles turned white.

“You weak, useless boy,” she hissed. “You threw away three generations of work for a woman who despised you.”