Chapter 251
“Love?” Cailin let out a short, harsh sound. “You call this love? Bringing your grandfather to my door with a battering ram?”
“I stopped him,” Hilliard said. “I stood between him and them!”
“And what happens tomorrow?” Cailin asked. “When he comes back? Can you stop him then? Can you stop the lawyers? The judges? The media?”
Hilliard said nothing. He knew the answer. Amerigo was a force of nature — one that had been building momentum for eighty years.
“Meet me at the Four Seasons,” Cailin said. “Bring a custody agreement — a fair one. If you want to be a father, prove you can put their needs above your family’s ego.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” Hilliard said. “Amerigo has the building surrounded. If you try to run—”
“I’m not running,” Cailin said. The lie came out measured and quiet, her face arranged into an expression of weary resignation. She knew he wouldn’t trust a promise. But he might believe she was too exhausted to fight. “I’m tired, Hilliard. I want dry clothes and a hot meal. I’ll see you at eight.”
Hilliard studied her face, searching for the deception. He found exhaustion. He found fear. And something else — what looked, just barely, like surrender.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “Eight o’clock. But I’m leaving my men at the door. For your protection.”
“Fine.”
He walked to the door and paused with his hand on the handle.
“They’re beautiful,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”
He left.
The moment the door clicked shut, Cailin locked it. She threw the deadbolt and dragged a heavy metal chair under the handle.
“Kegan,” she said, raising her voice toward the ceiling.
“I’m here,” Kegan’s voice came through the hidden speakers. “The meeting is the misdirection. Amerigo’s men are watching this building. Hilliard’s are watching you. While every eye is on you at the hotel, my team extracts the children.”
“And how do I get out?”
“The hotel has a service elevator that bypasses the lobby. I have a team waiting in a laundry van,” Kegan said. “Hilliard will be in the restaurant, expecting a negotiation. You’ll walk out the back and disappear.”
Cailin was already on the stairs.
Ashley was upstairs packing bags.
“We’re leaving?” Ashley asked.
“We’re leaving,” Cailin said. “Tonight. For good.”
She looked at the clock. 6:00 PM.
Two hours to say goodbye to the life she had built here. Two hours to prepare to break Hilliard’s heart one final time.
The private dining room at the Four Seasons was an exercise in calculated opulence — crystal chandeliers, velvet curtains, and a table set for two with enough silverware to perform surgery.
Hilliard sat alone, an untouched glass of scotch in front of him. He checked his watch. 8:05 PM.
The door opened.
Cailin walked in.