Chapter 7 - The Confrontation on the Steps
By 11:00 AM, Alexander’s black armored sedan screeched to a halt in front of the Lincoln Park brownstone.
He jumped out without waiting for his driver, his tie undone and his hair wildly disheveled in the autumn wind.
He took the stone steps three at a time, pounding on the heavy oak door with his fists until his knuckles turned raw.
"Claire! Open this door right now!" he bellowed, his voice cracking with desperation.
The heavy curtain twitched, and the deadbolt turned with three slow, mechanical clicks.
The door opened wide, but Alexander didn't find a crying, vulnerable woman waiting for his commands.
Standing on the threshold was Claire, flanked by two towering men who had once served as Elena Rossi’s personal security captains.
Behind her, Ethan was sitting at the dining table, eating pancakes and coloring a picture of a sailboat.
"Claire, call off the port marshals," Alexander pleaded, taking a step forward only to be met by an iron hand against his collarbone.
"The commission is going to revoke my territory! We can work this out! We are a family!"
"We were never a family, Alexander," I said, meeting his bloodshot eyes without a trace of hesitation.
"A family doesn't demand apologies from a seven-year-old child who watched his grandmother take her last breath."
"I made a mistake, okay? I was blind! I threw Sophia out of the penthouse an hour ago!" Alexander cried, his pride evaporating entirely.
"I don't care about the gallery, I don't care about her father's investments, I only care about you and Ethan!"
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"You didn't throw her out because you loved me, Alexander," I replied, my voice echoing down the quiet street.
"You threw her out because she became an expense you could no longer afford."
