Chapter 7 - The Gathering Storm
We returned to the Maine safehouse by noon.
When Sophia saw me, she ran to me, throwing her arms around my waist. I held her tight, feeling the small, fragile warmth of her. I realized then that I would burn the entire world to ashes before I let anyone hurt her.
Isabella stood by the door, looking at Sophia with a mixture of guilt and awe.
"She looks so much like you, Edward," Isabella whispered, her voice cracking.
Sophia pulled back, looking at Isabella with cool, assessing eyes. "You are the woman from the photographs. The one who told my father he couldn't have children."
Isabella flinched. "Sophia... I am so, so sorry. I made a terrible mistake. I wanted to protect you, but I was a coward."
"My grandmother told me about cowards," Sophia said, her voice steady. "She said they are the most dangerous people because they only look at their own feet when they run. They don't care who they step on."
The maturity of her words struck me. She was twelve, but she had been forced to grow up in a crucible of survival.
"We have work to do," I said, cutting through the tension. "Marcus, what is the status of the DNA testing?"
Marcus pulled a sealed envelope from his satchel. "I had the results delivered to a secure courier. It's official, Edward. Sophia and the baby—whom we need to officially name, by the way—are a 99.9% biological match to you. They are your legal heirs."
"His name is Arthur," I said, looking at the sleeping infant in the crib. "After my grandfather. The man who built the Drummond Group from a single shipping dock."
"Arthur," Sophia repeated, a small smile appearing on her face. "I like that."
"Now," I said, turning to Marcus and Isabella. "Here is the plan for the Gala. Richard thinks he has me cornered. He thinks I'm hiding, terrified of the scandal. He expects me to either flee the country or agree to his terms. We are going to let him believe that until the very last second."
Over the next forty-eight hours, we prepared our attack.
Marcus worked with federal prosecutors he trusted, securing arrest warrants that would be unsealed the night of the Gala. Isabella wrote a detailed, fifty-page affidavit outlining every illegal procedure, every forged medical document, and every transaction linking Richard to the destruction of Maria's life.
But I knew Richard wouldn't go quietly. He was a cornered rat, and a cornered rat has no rules.
On the night of the Gala, the grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel in New York was a sea of glittering diamonds, silk gowns, and high-society whispers.
Richard stood at the center of the room, holding a glass of champagne, surrounded by the board of directors. He looked smug, victorious. He was dressed in a bespoke tuxedo, acting the part of the benevolent savior of the Drummond legacy.
I stood in the shadows of the mezzanine, looking down at him.
Beside me, Sophia was dressed in a simple, elegant dark blue dress. She looked like royalty. Next to her, Mrs. Gable held Arthur, who was fast asleep.
"Are you ready, Sophia?" I asked.
She looked up at me, her blue eyes reflecting the crystal chandeliers below. "I'm not scared anymore, Father."
Father.
May you like
The word settled deep in my chest, solid and unshakeable.
"Let's go," I said.
