Chapter 1 - The Federal Warrant
The silence in the luxury suite was deafening. Outside, thunder rattled the high-rise hospital windows, but inside, the temperature had dropped below freezing. Margaret’s laughter died in her throat as her eyes darted from the silver badge glinting on my nightstand to the heavily armed U.S. Marshals stepping through the heavy wooden doors.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Margaret gasped, her voice shrill as she reflexively clutched her genuine ostrich-leather handbag. “This is a private medical facility! You can’t just walk in here—my son is a prominent corporate attorney!”
“Your son’s corporate firm is currently being raided by federal agents, Mrs. Ellis,” Senior Marshal Marcus Vance replied, his voice as immovable as iron. He didn’t even glance at her; instead, he bowed his head slightly toward my bed. “Good evening, Your Honor. We have secured the perimeter of the maternity ward per your standing security protocol.”
Margaret froze. Her head snapped back to me, her face draining of every drop of color until she looked like a ghost wrapped in Chanel. “Y-Your Honor?”
I slowly leaned back against my pillows, ignoring the burning agony along my lower abdomen. The pain was real, but the authority running through my veins was absolute. “I told you to check my full legal name before you laid a hand on me, Margaret. In the courtroom of the Eastern District, I am Judge Katherine Monroe-Ellis. And those papers you just threw at my face? That’s attempt to coerce a federal official, extortion, and conspiratorial kidnapping.”
“You’re lying!” Margaret screeched, though her knees were visibly shaking. “You’re a freelance writer! You sit on that sofa all day in sweatpants!”
“I edit appellate briefs for the Supreme Court from that sofa,” I said coldly, picking up the parental surrender documents she had forced into my hands. “And while Andrew was out telling you he was carrying our household, he was actually using my judicial compensation fund to pay off his gambling debts to the Vance Crime Syndicate—the very syndicate I sentenced to federal penitentiary last month.”
Before Margaret could process the words, the suite doors burst open again. Andrew rushed in, soaking wet from the storm, his tie loosened and panic written across his features. “Mom! Katherine! What is going on down in the parking lot? There are federal SUVs everywhere—”
He stopped dead when he saw Marshal Vance placing handcuffs on his mother.
“Andrew!” Margaret wailed, losing all her composure. “Tell these thugs who you are! Tell them this fake wife of yours is playing tricks!”
Andrew looked at me, then at the badge, and finally at the Marshals. The color drained from his face too. He had known I worked in law, but he had spent three years lying to his narcissistic mother, claiming he was the sole provider to save his fragile ego. He had never imagined his lies would collapse in a hospital room three hours after his twins were born.
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“Katherine…” Andrew stammered, taking a step forward. “Please… she didn’t know. She just wants what’s best for the family—”
“She put hands on a federal judge and tried to steal my son for your sister, Andrew,” I whispered, my voice dripping with lethal calm. “Marshal Vance, arrest her.”
