Chapter 2 - The Social Worker's Threat
Standing in the doorway was a woman in a tailored dark grey suit, carrying a thick leather binder and a tablet. Her name tag read VICTORIA VANCE – SENIOR CASEWORKER, CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES.
Beside her stood two uniformed hospital security officers.
Victoria Vance looked at Maxwell with an expression that combined bureaucratic arrogance with cold suspicion. She had received a notification from the hospital admissions desk that an unlisted billionaire had entered the room of an indigent cancer patient without prior authorization.
"I am Mrs. Winters' primary caseworker," Victoria said, stepping into the room and motioning for the security guards to stay by the door. "Mr. Rothschild, I know who you are. The hospital called my supervisor. You are not listed on Mrs. Winters' medical directive or family contact sheet. I must ask you to step outside immediately."
Maxwell slowly stood up from the armchair. At six-foot-two, with broad shoulders and an aura of supreme authority that usually made entire boardrooms fall silent, he turned to face the social worker.
"I am staying right here," Maxwell said, his voice quiet, low, and completely immovable.
"You don't have a legal right to be here, sir," Victoria countered, opening her binder. "Mrs. Winters is under state medical assistance. Her granddaughters, Lucy and Lily, are currently in the pediatric waiting lobby. Upon Mrs. Winters' impending passing, the girls will be taken into temporary state custody under Emergency Directive 402."
"They are not going into state custody," Maxwell said coldly.
Victoria let out a short, patronizing breath. "Mr. Rothschild, wealth does not grant you instant legal guardianship of random orphans. You have no documented biological relationship to these children. You are a stranger who wandered in off the street."
"I am their grandfather," Maxwell stated clearly.
Victoria froze for a split second, her eyes widening slightly before her professional skepticism reasserted itself. "Their grandfather? Mr. Rothschild, Clara Winters' birth certificate lists her father as unknown. Unless you have a court-ordered DNA test registered with the State of Washington, your claim is legally meaningless."
"Then we will run the DNA test today," Maxwell said, taking out his cell phone.
"Even if you do," Victoria said, her voice dropping into a razor-thin tone of bureaucratic hostility, "a DNA test takes weeks to process through official state labs. In the meantime, the protocol is clear. The children will be placed in a temporary group home facility in North Tacoma until a formal custody hearing can be scheduled in three months."
North Tacoma. Maxwell knew that facility by reputation—an overcrowded, underfunded institution where children were treated like catalog inventory.
"If you attempt to remove those two eight-year-old girls from this hospital without my consent," Maxwell said, stepping toward Victoria with a look that made the two security guards shift nervously by the door, "I will file an immediate injunction with the Supreme Court of the State of Washington. My legal team will lock your department in civil rights litigation until every officer involved loses their license."
Victoria’s posture stiffened. She was used to intimidating poor families, broken parents, and helpless relatives. She was not used to facing an eight-billion-dollar wall of legal power.
"You have until 5:00 p.m. tomorrow to produce a legally binding petition, Mr. Rothschild," Victoria hissed, stepping back toward the hallway. "Otherwise, when Mrs. Winters passes, those girls leave with me. Security, please remain outside this door."
Victoria turned and walked down the hall, her high heels clicking sharply against the tile floor.
Maxwell turned back to Elizabeth, who was watching him with wide, fearful eyes.
"Don't worry," Maxwell whispered, smoothing the silver-and-copper hair from her forehead. "I'm going to call Julian."
Julian Mercer was not just Maxwell's chief legal counsel; he was a former federal judge who held the highest success rate in family law litigation in the Pacific Northwest.
Maxwell pulled out his phone, dialed the direct line, and placed it to his ear.
"Julian," Maxwell said as soon as the line picked up. "Cancel the New York merger meeting. Clear my entire schedule for the next month."
"Maxwell?" Julian’s voice came back, sounding shocked. "The board of directors is sitting in the conference room in Manhattan right now! The merger with Sterling Corp is supposed to sign in two hours!"
"Let them wait," Maxwell said coldly. "I need an emergency rush DNA panel processed within six hours, an ex parte petition for legal guardianship, and an order of protection against CPS Caseworker Victoria Vance."
"Maxwell, what are you talking about? Who are these people?"
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Maxwell looked down at Elizabeth's pale, serene face, then glanced toward the window, where eight-year-old Lucy and her twin sister Lily were sitting in the lobby below, holding their small paper cup of forty-five cents.
"I found my family, Julian," Maxwell said, his voice thick with emotion. "And I am not going to let anyone steal them from me again."
