“Prove it,” Adrian replied smoothly. “A judge will look at that document, signed by a licensed practitioner, and see a mother who is unfit to care for a child.”

“That is a lie, and you know it,” I said, my chest tightening. “I have my own records, my own doctors.”

“It doesn’t matter what you have,” Adrian said. “By the time your lawyers manage to get a hearing, the story will already be public.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“What do you mean, public?” I asked.

“I will launch a campaign that will make you a household name for all the wrong reasons,” he said. “The tabloids will have those medical files by tomorrow afternoon.”

“You would ruin my reputation just to keep Lily away from her inheritance?” I asked.

“I will do whatever is necessary to protect the Whitmore name from a grifter,” he said. “If you do not sign that waiver, I will file for sole custody of Lily based on your unstable mental health.”

Grace leaned in closer to the phone, her notepad ready, her pen flying across the paper.