Chapter 4
Across the city, in a sprawling, modern penthouse overlooking the river, Garrett Hale paced the length of his living room like a caged animal. He had discarded his navy suit jacket, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his black tie hanging loosely around his neck.
He hurled a crystal whiskey glass against the stone fireplace. It shattered into a hundred glittering pieces.
"Garrett, please!" Kendra shrieked from the cream leather sofa. She was still wearing her champagne satin gown, clutching their curly-haired toddler tightly to her chest. The boy was crying softly, terrified by his father's sudden, violent outburst.
"She played me!" Garrett roared, turning on Kendra with a wild, manic fury in his eyes. "For nine months, she sat across from me at the dinner table, smiling, knowing she was carrying the heir I needed! She let me walk into that hospital room thinking I held all the cards!"
"You shouldn't have brought us there," Kendra cried, tears streaming down her flawless face. "I told you it was a mistake! You just wanted to humiliate her, and it backfired!"
"Shut up!" Garrett snapped, pointing a shaking finger at her. "You don't understand the corporate stakes! Without that boy, the Vance trust locks me out. Marcus will push for a vote of no confidence by Friday. I will lose the company!"
He ran a hand through his dark wavy hair, pulling at the roots. He walked over to his massive mahogany desk and slammed his fist on the intercom button.
"Get my lawyers on the line. Now," Garrett barked to his assistant.
A moment later, the slick voice of his lead counsel, David Vance—no relation to Brooke’s family, ironically—filled the room. "Garrett, we have a problem. Marcus Vance has established a perimeter at the estate. He filed for emergency sole custody."
"I don't care what he filed!" Garrett yelled. "Call Judge Sterling. Call the men we paid. I want an emergency injunction filed before midnight. I want Brooke declared mentally unfit. Postpartum psychosis. Tell the judge she kidnapped my son."
"Garrett, Marcus has half the police force on his payroll," David warned carefully. "If we move aggressively without proof..."
"Make the proof!" Garrett slammed his hands on the desk. "She locked me out of the delivery room. She is withholding my child. Do whatever it takes, David, or I swear to God I will cut your retainer and leave you to the wolves."
The line went dead. Garrett stood breathing heavily, staring out at the city lights.
May you like
He turned back to look at Kendra and their crying toddler. The affection he usually feigned was entirely gone, replaced by a cold, calculating disgust.
"Put him to bed," Garrett ordered Kendra, his voice devoid of all warmth. "And pack a bag. If I go down for this, I'm making sure you're the one holding the bag."
