Chapter 3 - The Wolves Gather
Within forty-eight hours, the silent war erupted into daylight. Nicholas had relocated Lily and me from the Marlowe Hotel to a private, heavily gated brownstone in the historic district of Gramercy Park. The property was discreet, fortified, and staffed with round-the-clock private security. For the first time since leaving the hospital, I could sit in a rocking chair by a crackling fireplace and nurse Lily without jumping at every sound on the street.
My attorney, Victoria Vance, arrived at the brownstone on a snowy Thursday afternoon. Victoria was an imposing woman in her early fifties, with silver-streaked hair pulled into a severe bun and eyes that could slice through granite. She carried two oversized leather satchels packed with financial discovery documents.
"Daniel's opening move was remarkably clumsy," Victoria began without preamble, dropping the files onto the coffee table. "His legal team filed a police missing persons report combined with an emergency petition for temporary custody, claiming you took the baby while suffering from a severe psychotic episode. We countered within twenty minutes."
"How?" I asked, adjusting Lily’s blanket.
"We provided the surveillance footage from Manhattan General Hospital's security cameras," Victoria said, a grim smile spreading across her face. "Nicholas’s security team pulled the raw footage before the hospital's private board could bury it. It clearly shows Daniel entering your room at 8:14 A.M., throwing a folder of papers onto your bed, and exiting four minutes later. More importantly, we secured the outdoor footage: you, standing on the curb with an infant in twenty-degree weather, while Sullivan Security changes the access fobs at your building across the street. The judge nearly held Daniel’s counsel in summary contempt on the spot."
A heavy weight lifted from my chest, but Victoria held up a cautionary finger. "Winning the opening skirmish does not mean the war is over, Ava. Eleanor Sullivan has taken control of the family's public relations machine. They are hosting their annual Winter Solstice Gala on Saturday night at the Plaza. It’s where they announce the major beneficiaries of the Sullivan Foundation."
"I used to help organize that gala," I murmured, recalling the endless hours spent picking out floral arrangements while Daniel criticized my choices. "All the city's elite, politicians, and media moguls attend."
"Precisely," Victoria continued. "Daniel intends to use that stage to play the grieving, bewildered husband. He has already leaked a statement to Page Six implying that you struggled with postpartum depression and that he is setting up a private clinic to 'help' you recover once you return. He is actively spinning this to look like a saint."
Just then, Nicholas entered the living room. He wore a crisp navy overcoat, his shoulders dusted with fresh snow. He stood by the arched doorway, listening intently. "He won't get that chance," Nicholas intervened quietly.
Victoria glanced at him. "Nicholas, crashing the Sullivan gala is a high-risk maneuver. The press will be everywhere."
"We aren't crashing," Nicholas said, taking an ivory-embossed envelope from his pocket and placing it in my lap. "Ava is on the official guest list. As Arthur Sullivan’s daughter-in-law, her seat at the head table is non-negotiable under the foundation's corporate bylaws. And as the majority shareholder of Maro Capital, I hold an executive seat on the venue’s governing board."
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I looked down at the gold-foiled invitation. The thought of stepping back into that world made my stomach churn, but looking down at Lily's innocent face, I felt a fierce, burning resolve. Daniel had thrown us into the cold, expecting us to vanish silently into the dark. He thought I was weak because I had loved him. He was about to find out how dangerous a mother could be when she had nothing left to lose.
"I’m going," I said, looking directly at Nicholas. "I want Daniel to look me in the eyes when everyone in New York sees what he truly is."
