The ballroom smelled of burning velvet and cheap polyester. It was a sharp, chemical stink that cut right through the scent of white gardenias and two-thousand-dollar champagne.

The peace inside the Callaway estate lasted three days.

On Thursday afternoon, a battered silver sedan with rusted fenders parked near the heavy black iron gates at the bottom of the hill.

The reporters who were still lingering near the perimeter instantly swarmed the vehicle, sensing fresh meat.

A man stepped out of the driver's side. He was thirty-two, wearing a stained leather jacket, smelling of stale cigarettes and cheap whiskey, with a heavy, arrogant jawline that looked terrifyingly familiar.

It was Ricky Hayes—Aaron’s older brother from Dayton, Ohio.

Within twenty minutes, Frank Harrison’s voice echoed over the intercom in Nathaniel’s private office.

"Mr. Callaway," Frank said grimly. "We have a situation at the main gate. There’s a man named Ricky Hayes claiming to be Grace’s brother-in-law and Lily’s legal uncle. He’s holding a handwritten custody document from Ohio and telling the reporters that Grace kidnapped the child after Aaron’s death."

Grace, who was sitting across the desk from Nathaniel reviewing trust fund paperwork, dropped her pen. The ink splattered across the white margin.

"Ricky..." Grace whispered, her face turning entirely pale. "Oh God. No. Not him."

Nathaniel stood up immediately, his chair rolling back against the rug. "Who is he, Grace?"

Grace’s hands began to tremble violently. She pulled her knees up to her chest, her voice cracking with a sudden, deep-seated terror that Nathaniel had never seen in her before.

"When Aaron died..." Grace choked out, tears spilling down her cheeks, "the construction company gave me a twenty-thousand-dollar death benefit. Ricky took the check. He told me that Aaron owed him fifty thousand dollars for old gambling debts, and if I didn't give him the money and sign over Aaron’s truck, he would have his cousin—who was a deputy sheriff in Dayton—take Lily away from me."

Nathaniel’s eyes turned into cold, grey slits. "He threatened to take Lily?"

"I ran," Grace wept, covering her face with her uninjured hand. "I packed two bags, took Lily in the middle of the night, and bought a bus ticket to Boston. I left everything behind just to get away from him!"

Nathaniel walked around the massive desk. He didn't say a word. He dropped to his knees in front of her chair, gently pulling her trembling hands away from her face.

"Listen to me," Nathaniel commanded softly, his thumbs wiping the warm tears from her cheeks. "Look at me, Grace."

Grace looked down into his eyes.

"No one is taking Lily," Nathaniel said, every word articulated like iron rivets being hammered into steel. "Not Ricky Hayes. Not the state of Ohio. Not the president of the United States. Do you understand me?"

"He has Aaron’s family documents, Nathaniel," Grace sobbed. "He’s mean... he’s awful... he used to beat Aaron when they were boys—"

"Grace," Nathaniel interrupted gently. "I own six law firms in Boston. I own three former federal judges who sit on my board. Ricky Hayes is a flea."

He stood up, holding out his broad hand to her.

"Come with me," he said.