Chapter 1 - Thirty-Seven Days
The wooden spoon hit the marble floor.
For the first time since I had walked into my own kitchen, Isabella stopped acting.
Her face did not show confusion.
It showed calculation.
The television mounted above the fireplace played the archived recording again.
Her own voice filled the room.
“Your father already chose me.”
Maya flinched inside my coat.
“If you complain, I’ll send you away and tell him you hurt the baby.”
Isabella lunged toward the remote.
My head of security, Marcus Reed, stepped between her and the table.
“Don’t touch anything.”
She stared at him.
Then at the two officers standing beside my attorney.
Suddenly, tears filled her eyes.
“Nathan, please.”
I had seen those tears before.
At charity galas.
At hospital fundraisers.
At our wedding when she spoke about how honored she was to become Maya’s second mother.
Now I knew how easily she could summon them.
“This looks terrible,” she whispered.
I looked at Maya.
Her shoulders were covered in angry red marks.
Her hands were wrinkled from water.
Her face looked thinner than it had one month earlier.
“No.”
I turned back to Isabella.
“It doesn’t look terrible.”
“It is terrible.”
She shook her head violently.
“You’ve taken clips out of context.”
“Thirty-seven days of context?”
“I was overwhelmed.”
“With what?”
“A newborn.”
“You made a nine-year-old carry him.”
“She wanted to help.”
Maya finally spoke.
“No, I didn’t.”
Everyone went quiet.
Isabella’s eyes snapped toward her.
Maya immediately lowered her face.
That tiny movement told me more than anything on the screen.
Even with me standing beside her, my daughter was still afraid of Isabella.
I crouched in front of her.
“Maya.”
She looked at me.
“You never have to be afraid to tell me the truth again.”
Her mouth trembled.
“She said you would send me away.”
“I won’t.”
“She said Noah would get hurt because of me.”
“He won’t.”
“She said you loved her more.”
My throat tightened.
“I should have made sure you knew that was never true.”
Isabella suddenly exploded.
“Oh, stop.”
The crying disappeared from her face.
“She lies constantly.”
One of the officers moved closer.
Isabella pointed at Maya.
“She broke things.”
“She refused to help.”
“She was jealous of Noah.”
Maya shrank against me.
I stood.
“Do not point at my daughter.”
“She is my daughter too.”
“No.”
My voice surprised even me.
“You lost the right to say that.”
My attorney, Rebecca Sloan, opened the evidence folder.
“Mrs. Cole, you are being formally notified that Nathan is seeking an emergency protective order covering Maya and the infant.”
Isabella blinked.
“Cole?”
Rebecca did not react.
Isabella had kept my surname after our wedding.
She preferred being introduced as Isabella Hart because my company was Hart Global Holdings.
But legally, the paperwork had not all been changed.
Rebecca continued.
“You are also prohibited from accessing Maya’s trust documents, financial accounts, school records, and medical records pending review.”
Isabella’s eyes flicked toward me.
There.
That reaction.
Fear.
Not about Maya.
Not about our marriage.
About the trust.
I noticed.
Rebecca noticed too.
“What did you do?”
Isabella crossed her arms.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Marcus’s phone vibrated.
He checked the message.
Then looked at me.
“We found something.”
“What?”
“Your private server logged repeated access attempts from inside the house.”
“That could be Isabella checking security.”
“No.”
He turned the screen toward me.
“These weren’t camera requests.”
“They were requests for the encrypted document vault.”
Rebecca stepped closer.
“What documents?”
Marcus looked at her.
“Maya’s trust.”
My daughter had inherited nearly fourteen million dollars from her biological mother.
The money was protected until she turned twenty-five.
Only two people had administrative access.
Me.
And Rebecca.
I looked at Isabella.
She went pale.
Marcus continued.
“There were eighty-three failed attempts.”
Rebecca frowned.
“From what device?”
Marcus glanced toward the upstairs hallway.
“Isabella’s laptop.”
The officer beside her spoke.
“Ma’am, we need you to remain in the kitchen.”
But Isabella was already backing away.
“No.”
She grabbed her phone.
“I’m calling my attorney.”
“You can.”
Rebecca’s voice was calm.
“But before you do, you should know something.”
Isabella stopped.
“The bank flagged a forged authorization form at eleven forty-two this morning.”
I stared at Rebecca.
She had not told me that.
Rebecca pulled another document from the folder.
“The form attempted to add Isabella Hart as co-trustee of Maya’s inheritance.”
My blood turned cold.
At the bottom of the page was my name.
My signature.
Except I had never signed it.
Maya whispered.
“Daddy?”
I looked at my wife.
“What did you do?”
Isabella’s face changed again.
And this time, she smiled.
May you like
“You really think I did all this alone?”
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