“It doesn’t matter,” Ethan said.

“The mere headline of a billionaire under investigation for child neglect would destroy the company’s stock overnight.”

He stood up, pacing behind the desk.

The leather of his shoes squeaked against the dark Persian rug.

“The board would use the emergency morality clause to strip my voting rights and place me on administrative leave.”

“Then Daniel takes the company,” I said.

“And he keeps the truth about Claire buried forever.”

Ethan stopped pacing and stared at the rain-streaked windowpane.

“I won’t let him have them.”

His voice was suddenly cold, devoid of the previous panic.

“I will burn the company to the ground before I let him touch my children.”

“We need to be smart,” I said.

I picked up a stray silver pen from the desk and set it neatly in the leather organizer.

It was a small habit from my cleaning shifts, keeping physical things in order when everything else was falling apart.

“He said by tomorrow night,” I reminded him.

“That means we have some time to prepare.”

“Daniel is not a man who waits,” Ethan said.