“Sophie is my daughter,” I said, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

“I carried her, and I gave birth to her while you were busy hiding your mistress.”

I glared at Sabrina, who was now standing near the double doors, adjusting her designer handbag.

Sabrina avoided my gaze, looking down at her high heels.

“The court doesn’t care about hurt feelings, Grace,” Margaret said, stepping in front of her son.

She adjusted the collar of her mink coat, her movements slow and deliberate.

“They care about stability, resources, and reputation.”

Margaret smiled, a thin, bloodless line that didn’t reach her eyes.

“And right now, your reputation is in the gutter.”

The lead lawyer, a tall man with graying hair and a sharp jawline, stepped forward.

He pulled a thick manila envelope from his leather briefcase.

“Mrs. Caldwell,” the lawyer said, addressing me by my married name.

“My name is Harold Vance, representing Caldwell Innovations and Mr. Ethan Caldwell.”

He held out the envelope, but I didn’t reach for it.

Julian stepped between us, snatching the envelope from the lawyer’s hand.