Chapter 240

** Paige’s POV **

The morning with my sister was exactly what I needed before the video call I know is fast approaching. I head inside to dress in something more respectable, choosing a button-up blouse that has a high enough collar to keep my mate marks hidden.

When I head back downstairs, I feel Remy’s discomfort, but before I can ask, Callen laughs.

“You know you don’t need to dress for court today, right?” He asks with a teasing grin.

“I know, but I wanted to look like I’m taking this seriously, plus I’m running out of clothes that cover my neck,” I shrug.

Remy lets out a low growl, which cuts off when Parker elbows him in the ribs.

“You look great,” Parker smiles, but it’s clearly forced.

I double-check my outfit, making sure my bra isn’t showing through the fabric, and then narrow my eyes at them. “Okay, does someone want to tell me what the issue is?”

Parker moves to stand in front of me, lifting my chin, so my eyes meet his. “Nothing that we need to address right now, we can talk later,” he says with a genuine smile this time.

I want to argue, but he’s right. Now is the time to focus on the meeting; the rest can wait.

The call is scheduled for 11:30, but by quarter past, I’m pacing between the kitchen island and the back door, my heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat. The laptop sits open and waiting, camera on with the microphone muted.

“Paige,” Ryder says gently from where he leans against the counter. “Sit down. You’re making everyone nervous.”

“I’m making everyone…” I glance around at the three men pretending not to watch me. Parker’s on one of the chairs, scrolling through his phone. Remy is leaning back against the wall near the door, his arms crossed, calm as ever, but his eyes are tracking me with that sharp Beta focus that misses nothing. And of course, Callen just smirks from where he’s leaning back in his chair. “You don’t look nervous.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re not,” he says. “You’ve been chewing your lip for ten minutes, sweetheart. I’m worried you’re going to draw blood before the solicitor even signs onto the call.”

Ryder shoots him a look, half warning, but there’s a hint of a smile he can’t hide. “Maybe don’t tease her right now.”

“It’s fine,” I mutter, even though it’s not. My stomach’s in knots. “This is just… important.”

Parker slides off his chair, coming to me. “Which is exactly why you don’t need to pace holes into the floor,” he smiles, resting a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got this, and we’ve got you.”

The words help me more than I want to admit. I nod and finally lower myself into the chair in front of the laptop. Ryder moves behind me, resting his hand on the back of the chair.

From the living room, a burst of laughter cuts through the quiet, Poppy’s voice followed by Jaxon’s giggle. The sound eases something in my chest. For a second, I let myself breathe.

Then the screen flickers, and the solicitor’s face appears.

“Ah, good morning, Ms Thompson… sorry, Ms Wilson.” He stammers slightly, pushing up a pair of glasses that look a size too small for his narrow face.

“Good morning, Mr Keating,” I say, forcing a polite smile.

He glances down at his notes, eyes darting over the screen. “I see we also have some family members joining us today?” He sounds uncertain, like he’s not quite sure how to address the collection of broad-shouldered men looming behind me.

“Yes,” I say, keeping my tone even. “This is Ryder, my partner, his twin brother, Callen, and Parker and Remy, my close family and support system.”

Mr Keating blinks, clearly unsure what to make of that, then smiles tightly. “Right. Well, I’m glad you have… plenty of support. These things can be quite emotional.”

Callen coughs lightly to disguise a laugh, and Remy’s mouth twitches. Ryder, bless him, keeps a straight face.

“Shall we begin?” Mr Keating says, pulling up a folder on his screen. “I’ve reviewed the preliminary filings from Mr Thompson’s solicitor. He’s seeking partial custody of Jaxon, requesting weekends, alternating holidays, and shared medical decision-making.”

My stomach tightens. Ryder’s hand settles gently on my shoulder, a silent reminder that I’m not alone.

“I’ve also received the DNA results you forwarded,” Mr Keating continues. “These are… quite definitive. Mr Thompson is not Jaxon’s biological father.”

He says it matter-of-factly, but the words still loosen something inside of me. I knew this. I’ve always known it. But hearing it said aloud in a legal setting, in front of strangers, makes it real in a way it hadn’t been before.

Ryder’s thumb moves in slow circles against my shoulder blade. I breathe.

“That being the case,” Mr Keating says, glancing back at his notes, “our position is much stronger. We can argue that Mr Thompson has no parental rights. His only potential claim is based on prior involvement in the child’s upbringing.”

“He wasn’t exactly involved much,” I say before I can stop myself. “He lived with us, but he barely spent any time at all with Jaxon.”

“Exactly,” Mr Keating says, nodding quickly. “We’ll use that. But we must also anticipate his counterarguments. He is claiming that your current circumstances are… unconventional.”

I tense. “Meaning?”

He glances up, clearly uncomfortable. “Well, the polyamorous situation is being labelled as unstable. Unorthodox households tend to draw scrutiny. Judges are conservative about what they consider a stable environment for a child.”

I hear a low growl rumble from behind me, and I know it’s Ryder before I even look. I struggle to find the right words to deny the claim, to say it’s a lie, but it’s too late. He’s seen me here with four men, so no matter what I say now, he won’t believe me, will he?

Mr Keating’s brow furrows. “Sorry, was that…”

“Motorbike outside,” Callen says smoothly. “We get a lot of them out here.”

“Ah, right.” Mr Keating clears his throat. “As I was saying, Ms Wilson, I don’t expect this to jeopardise your case, but we need to be prepared. Your best defence is transparency. You need to demonstrate stability, routine, and support, particularly from your partner.”

Ryder leans forward slightly. “Whatever she needs,” he says, his voice carrying that Alpha tone he gets when he’s angry. “I’ll provide it, but I’d also like to make it clear that this man is a liar. He has zero evidence that Paige’s relationship with my brother and close friends is anything but platonic.”

Mr Keating blinks, clearly thrown off by Ryder’s intensity. “Good. That’s good to hear.”

I bite back a smile. Ryder’s idea of ‘providing support’ could involve tearing someone’s throat out if they upset me, but to Mr Keating, it must sound like devotion.

“What happens next?” I ask, wanting to move things along. “How long before we’re actually in court?”

“A preliminary hearing has been rearranged for next month,” he replies. “We’ll submit a motion to dismiss Mr Thompson’s petition based on the DNA results and his lack of evidence. However, if his solicitor pushes for a full hearing, you’ll need to testify. Possibly Mr Madden as well.”

The thought of sitting in the same room as Greg again makes my stomach turn. The lies, the smirk, the way he twists everything to make himself the victim, it all flashes back. I swallow hard.

Remy steps closer. “You’ve already survived him once,” he says gently through the mind-link. “You’ll survive him again.”

Mr Keating glances up from his notes. “Ms Wilson, you mentioned before that Mr Thompson was emotionally neglectful? Do you have any documentation to support this? Messages, witness statements, evidence of his absence?”

“Yes,” I say. “I kept everything. I can dig through old texts, emails. I could ask Jaxon’s previous school for a statement too. I’ll send what I can find.”

“Excellent. That will strengthen our case.” He pauses, then adds, “I do have to ask, are you certain you don’t want any contact between Jaxon and Mr Thompson?”

There’s no hesitation. “I’m certain.”

Behind me, I feel Ryder’s approval ripple through the bond, a steady, calm pulse.

“Understood,” Mr Keating says, jotting down a note. “We’ll file accordingly. I’ll also include a request for a character statement from your current household members, if that’s agreeable.”

“Of course,” Parker says. “We’ll sign whatever she needs.”

Mr Keating glances up, briefly startled by Parker’s presence again, then nods briskly. “Good, and Ms Wilson, I recommend we keep the focus entirely on Jaxon’s wellbeing, his stability, education, and emotional security. The judge will respond best to that.”

Jaxon’s laughter echoes again from the living room, followed by Poppy’s cheerful, “No cheating, mister speedy!” I see Mr Keating’s expression soften slightly.

“That would be your son, I assume?” he asks.

“Yes,” I nod, and I can’t help the smile that follows. “He’s with my sister right now.”

“He sounds happy,” Mr Keating says, with genuine warmth. “That will matter, you know. A child thriving in his environment speaks louder than any statements.”

Something inside me eases, and hope blossoms because I feel more positive than ever that this will all work out.