FAZER LOGINThe words hung in the small study like something poisonous, and Catherine felt the blood drain from her face as the full weight of Jamie's discovery settled over her. "He's not just trying to destroy your company anymore. He's planning to kill you."She thought of every threat that had come before, the leaked contract, the surveillance devices, the fabricated recordings, all of it suddenly recontextualized as escalating steps toward something far more permanent and irreversible than reputation damage or lost business deals. A man patient enough to plan years in advance had apparently decided, at some point in the recent past, that Harry's death represented the cleanest resolution to whatever obsession had consumed him since the original fraud allegations three years earlier."That would explain the contingency comment," Harry said, his voice unnervingly calm despite the horrifying implication, the particular stillness Catherine had learned to recognize as controlled terror rather than
"Someone gave him this information," Catherine said, staring at the detailed floor plan with growing horror. "Someone who had access to this property's actual layout, not just general knowledge that we were staying here."She thought back through everyone who'd touched the logistics of their move to the upstate property, the contractors who'd installed the safe room, the security team Jamie had assembled on short notice, the small circle of people who should have been trustworthy simply by virtue of proximity and necessity. The realization that any one of them might have been compromised felt like watching solid ground reveal itself as thin ice, every step forward suddenly uncertain.Jamie's expression had gone grim. "I've already started reviewing everyone who had access to the security details for this location. Contractors, staff, anyone involved in setting up the safe room and camera systems.""How many people does that include?" Harry asked."More than I'd like," Jamie admitted.
The courthouse steps felt colder than the weather alone could explain as they walked out into the afternoon light, Sinclair's parting threat still ringing in Catherine's ears despite the victory they'd just secured inside. She felt the fragile relief of the hearing's outcome tangling uncomfortably with the cold certainty of his words."What did he mean by contingencies," Catherine asked, turning to Harry, watching the same unease reflected in his expression."I don't know," Harry admitted, "but given everything we've already survived, I'm not inclined to dismiss it as empty bluster."They returned to the upstate property that afternoon, gathering everyone together, Sasha and Oliver, Lily and Grace, Rebecca, Nina, and Jamie, the entire fractured, reassembled family Catherine had somehow acquired through months of chaos, all sharing a meal together for the first time since this nightmare had truly begun. Oliver, delighted by the sudden abundance of new people in his life, spent the afte
Catherine's mind raced desperately backward, searching for any memory that might explain the recording, any conversation she'd had that could have been twisted into those exact words. Nothing matched. She'd never once felt uncertain about her ability to love Oliver, not from the moment she'd watched him show her his dinosaur toys with such earnest delight days earlier.She glanced at Harry, searching his face for any flicker of doubt, terrified that even a fraction of a second's hesitation might mean he believed the fabrication was somehow rooted in truth. She found nothing but fury there, matching her own, and felt a fresh surge of gratitude for a man who trusted her completely even when confronted with evidence engineered specifically to plant doubt between them."Your Honor, may I address the court," Catherine said, rising before her own attorney could stop her, ignoring his hand reaching to pull her back down into her seat.Judge Owens studied her for a long moment before nodding.
"That's a lie," Catherine said immediately, her voice rising with disbelief and fury in equal measure. "I never said anything like that. I've never once expressed doubt about loving Oliver."She felt the accusation land somewhere deep and vulnerable, precisely because it targeted the one insecurity she genuinely might have carried privately, had she allowed herself the space to feel it. Every stepmother in every wedding she'd ever coordinated had confided some version of that same fear at some point, the quiet, guilty worry about whether love for a child born of someone else could ever feel as complete as love for a biological connection. That she'd never actually experienced that doubt herself, not once, made the fabrication feel like an even crueler violation, an attempt to manufacture a wound Sinclair assumed must exist simply because it so often did for other people in her position."I know," Jamie said quickly. "But Catherine, they don't necessarily need the recording to say exac
Catherine felt the words land like a physical blow, disbelief warring with a horror so complete it left her momentarily unable to speak. "That's not possible. My mother has met Oliver exactly zero times. She doesn't even know he exists yet."She sat down heavily, the accumulated shock of the day finally threatening to overwhelm even her considerable resilience, betrayal after betrayal stacking up until she could barely process the newest one before another arrived to compound it. First a possible son she'd never known existed, then a tracked child, a fabricated press release, and now her own mother's name attached to a legal effort to strip that same child from his parents."Apparently Sinclair briefed her extensively before making his offer," Jamie said grimly. "According to the petition, he's promising her financial security, a permanent resolution to whatever debts she's carrying, in exchange for lending her name and grandmother status to strengthen his legal position against both







