Chapter 292
“No,” Isolde said. “It is very simple. He made his choice tonight. He is nothing to her now.”
Victoria looked at Effie’s sleeping face, wiped a tear from her own eye, and quietly left the room.
Effie drifted back into a deep, exhausted sleep, her small fingers still clutching the fabric of Isolde’s shirt. Isolde sat back down and stroked her daughter’s hair.
In the quiet dark, Isolde made a vow.
Effie would never again be put in a position to beg for Grayson Lancaster’s love. She would never wait for a text that wouldn’t come. She would never search for him in a crowd.
Isolde pulled out her phone. It was 2:00 AM.
She dialed Attorney Davis. He answered groggily on the fourth ring. “Isolde? Is everything okay?”
“Add a clause to the custody demands,” Isolde said, her voice cold and absolute. “No unsupervised visitation. Ever.”
D𝗈𝘸ո𝗹oа𝗱𝖺b𝗅е р𝘋Fѕ o𝘯 𝗴аln𝗈vе𝗹𝗌.𝗰𝘰m
Davis coughed himself awake. “Isolde, that’s incredibly hard to get in New York without a criminal conviction for abuse.”
“Get it,” Isolde commanded. “Or I release the climbing video to the press and drag the Lancaster name through the mud until they beg me to stop.”
Monday morning.
The conference room at Hayes & Partners was a sterile expanse of mahogany, glass, and breathtaking views of the Manhattan skyline. It was designed to intimidate.
Isolde sat at one side of the long table, her posture perfect, her face an unreadable mask. Attorney Davis sat beside her, organizing his files. Opposite them sat Grayson. He looked terrible — dark circles beneath his eyes, his suit hanging slightly loose on his frame. Beside him was his shark of a lawyer, Hayes, a man who smiled like a reptile.
Hayes slid a thick leather-bound folder across the polished mahogany table.
“Mr. Lancaster is a generous man,” Hayes began, his voice smooth and practiced. “We want to avoid a messy public trial. We are offering a ten-million-dollar cash settlement.”
He paused, waiting for a reaction. Isolde didn’t blink.
“Plus,” Hayes continued, “the deed to the penthouse, free and clear. And fifty thousand dollars a month in alimony for the next ten years.”
It was a fortune. Enough to buy a small island.
Isolde ignored the numbers entirely. She didn’t even glance at the financial summary. She flipped directly to the back of the document, to the section marked “Custody and Visitation,” and read the bold text.
Joint legal and physical custody. 50/50 split. Alternating weeks.
Isolde closed the folder and pushed it back across the table with one finger.
Grayson leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly on the table. “Isolde, be reasonable. Take the money. It secures Effie’s future forever. You won’t have to worry about the estate repairs or her tuition.”
“I don’t want your money, Grayson,” Isolde said, her voice freezing the air in the room. “I want sole custody. Legal and physical.”
.