Chapter 295
She picked up her purse. “One more thing,” she said, looking at Hayes. “I want Effie’s trust fund transferred entirely to an independent trustee by the end of the week. You will have zero access and zero control over her money.”
Grayson swallowed hard. “Fine. Done.”
Isolde walked to the heavy glass door. She put her hand on the handle, then stopped and looked back over her shoulder.
“You think you won today, Grayson,” Isolde said quietly. “But you just lost the only two people in this world who actually loved you for you, and not for your wallet.”
She pushed the door open and walked out.
𝗝𝘰in 𝘰𝘶𝗿 с𝗈𝗺𝗆𝗎𝗻𝘪𝘁𝗒 𝗼𝗇 𝗴а𝗹𝘯о𝘷е𝗹𝘀.c𝗈𝘮
Grayson sat alone at the long mahogany table. Hayes was already packing his briefcase, humming a cheerful tune.
Grayson looked back down at the NDA. It didn’t feel like a shield protecting his family. It felt like a heavy, suffocating shroud.
The conference room door opened again. Daron McKnight strolled in holding two glasses of scotch.
“I saw her leave,” Daron grinned, handing a glass to Grayson. “Did she sign? Excellent. Let’s drink to your freedom.”
Grayson looked at the amber liquid. He felt sick to his stomach.
He stood up slowly and left the drink on the table.
“Not today, Daron,” Grayson said.
He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked down at the sprawling city below. He was at the top of the world, but he couldn’t shake the terrifying feeling that he was in a free fall.
The Carson Estate was quiet that evening. The contractors had gone home, leaving behind the smell of fresh paint and cut lumber.
Isolde walked into the cozy, renovated living room. A fire was crackling in the hearth.
Her best friend, Harper Vance, was sitting on the rug, helping Effie build a massive LEGO castle. Harper looked up as Isolde entered. She took one look at her exhausted face and knew.
“You signed it, didn’t you?” Harper asked, her voice tight.
Isolde walked to the kitchen island and poured herself a glass of ice water. Her hands were shaking so badly the ice clinked loudly against the glass.
“I had to,” Isolde said, taking a long drink. “He threatened a full custody war. He would have dragged it out for a year. He would have had visitation.”
Harper stood up and slammed a throw cushion onto the sofa. “That bastard! The NDA covers Belle’s brat, doesn’t it? He’s protecting her.”
“Yes,” Isolde said, leaning against the cool marble counter. “I can never say Kaiden is his biological son. I can never tell the press.”
Harper paced the room. “So Belle gets to play the saintly godmother, Grayson gets to play the generous benefactor, and you look like the bitter, crazy ex-wife who abandoned her adopted son? That is sick!”
“Let them play their roles,” Isolde said. Her voice was surprisingly calm.
She set the glass down. A dangerous, sharp light entered her eyes.
“Besides,” Isolde said, a slow smile spreading across her face. “The NDA only binds me.”
Harper stopped pacing. “What do you mean?”
.
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