Gavin slammed his hand onto the desk, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the quiet office.

“That is enough,” he barked.

“Sloane, go to your office and send the draft about Cassandra’s medical records to the press.”

“Now.”

Sloane didn’t move.

She stood frozen, her eyes wide as she looked between Gavin and me.

“I said, go,” Gavin repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

Sloane took a slow step backward, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood.

She looked at me, and for a fraction of a second, I saw pure terror in her eyes.

She wasn’t looking at a rival anymore.

She looked like someone who had just realized she was standing on a sinking ship.

“I’ll… I’ll get the files ready,” Sloane stammered.

She turned and hurried out of the office, her head down.

Gavin turned his cold, dark eyes back to me.

“You have until nine a.m., Cassandra,” he said.

“Sign the custody agreement, or watch your life fall apart on the morning news.”

Sarah grabbed my arm, her grip tight and reassuring.

“We’re leaving,” Sarah said. “We’ll see you in court, Gavin.”