The Custody Trap

The Custody Trap

Amelia’s POV

My hands clenched, not over the divorce papers but over the judge's devastating ruling.

The sound of the gravel was still ringing in my ears, a definitive execution of my rights.

“Your Honor, with all due respect, I am the only surviving family member,” I argued, my voice tight with desperate restraint. I forced myself to meet the judge's gaze. “My sister, Eva, was a victim of domestic abuse and her daughter, Lucia, deserves better than the life Gray Thompson will provide.”

Gary was Eva’s emotionally and physically abusive husband. A gaunt, blading man whose expensive suit couldn't hide his wicked heart. His smile was the gesture of a vile display of triumph that made me want to cross the room and physically slap the smug look off his face. He wasn't even Lucia's actual father; he was just a crooked opportunist who used my niece to get the Hayes family money. 

“With all due respect, Ms Hayes,” the judge replied, tapping his pen on the bench, “Mr Thompson is the legal father of the child. And you, Ms Hayes, are merely an aunt.”

Gray moved closer to the judge, lowering his voice just enough to ensure the entire courtroom heard the fatal blow. “Also, Your Honor, Ms Hayes’ lifestyle is, shall we say, unique. She is a woman of considerable wealth but yet remains unmarried at thirty-five. She has no stability, no husband, and no traditional family unit to offer the child.”

I closed my eyes in pain, and a surge of raw fury momentarily blinded me. The audacity! He was using my single status against me and against the very custody of my sister's child. 

“The court is clear,” the judge continued, now his tone was cold and final. “Ms Hayes, you have no legal standing to claim custody unless you can demonstrate a traditional family environment. I'll grant you a thirty-day adjournment, and you must be married by the next hearing, or Mr Thompson retains the full custody of Lucia.”

The gavel fell, the sound a definitive, echoing thud.

Gray pushed back his chair, as he approached the exit with his grin widening. I could feel the court's eyes on me, wondering the billionairess reduced to dust by a single and obsolete ruling. I had tried to manage the family company, brokered international deals, and even survived a plane crash, but I couldn't provide a husband. 

I moved toward Gray, my expensive shoes were silent on the marble floor. I had to face him and know the extent of his malice. 

“Excuse me?” I whispered still struggling to keep my voice from shattering. “Did I hear you correctly? You are using my marital status against me and also using it to hold my niece hostage?”

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders while adjusting his tie with an air of practiced indifference. “You heard that right, Ms Hayes. The court values stability and your money can't buy you a wedding ring or a husband, apparently.”

“You, this wicked man,” I hissed, leaning in so that only he could hear the pure venom in my voice. “You know Lucia is scared of you. You and I know you only want her for the inheritance my sister foolishly left her.”

“A father has rights, remember? Ms Hayes. And a single woman of your reputation has none.” He didn't stutter, his eyes were devoid of humanity. 

“Can you hear the sound of the clock? Tick-tock. You have thirty days to find a suitable groom. Better start swiping right.”

He turned to leave but I grabbed his arm as my fingers dug into the fabric of his suit. “You won't win this, Gray. I will fight you until the law has no more courts.”

He laughed with a dry and rasping sound. “But you are out of time, Amelia. The judge won't bend. Who are you going to marry? Is it one of your paid flings? The court will see right through that.” He pulled his arm free with a surprising and brutal strength. 

“Ms Hayes, do you know the only thing worse than being single? It's being desperate.”

He walked out, leaving me alone in the dead silence. I have thirty days. The absurdity of it made my head ache. Who would marry me in thirty days? Who would agree to this ridiculous, high-stakes contract? I looked at my phone, and my mind was already racing through the calculations. 

Gray was right, I couldn't risk a ‘paid fling.’ The court would see through the casual arrangement. But I needed someone the judge would believe was committed, loyal, and could trust to disappear without causing any media circus. 

My eyes scanned the lobby, skipping past the nervous lawyers and staff. They are a figure leaning against a pillar, patiently waiting. 

He was tall, six-foot-one, and well built with a strong, quiet intensity in his dark eyes. He was my bodyguard, Adrian Cole. 

Adrian. The man who had been secretly in my life for two years. He was very loyal, desperate for money to take care of his ailing godmother, Martha, and completely under my control. 

I went to him, my mind was racing through the calculations of his medical debt, his past financial troubles, and his unspoken code of ethics. He was the perfect and terrifying solution. 

“Adrian,” I said as my voice dropped to a decisive pitch. “I have a proposition for you, but…”

He straightened immediately with his gaze meeting mine. He saw the fear and the absolute determination radiating off me, but he betrayed no emotion. He was perfect. 

“Yes, Ms Hayes?” He asked with a low and utterly professional voice.

I leaned closer to him, ensuring no one could hear the desperate transaction I was about to propose. “I need a husband but a temporary one. Like a two-year or less thingy. And you,” I stated, dropping the final blow, “will be paid more than enough to save your godmother's life.”

Adrian's eyes widened, that was the first sign of vulnerability I had ever seen. 

He knew exactly what I was asking and he knew the cost.

“You mean, you want to buy my name?” He asked, but his words were slow and heavy with disbelief.

“No. I want to employ your loyalty,” I corrected, my heart was pounding in my chest. “It's just a contract, Adrian. A marriage of convenience and Lucia's life depends on it.”

His face hardened, and the strong, quiet intensity returned, but now tangled with deep conflict. 

He looked at me, the heiress who could save his world and he looked away, battling his own pride. 

“Walk with me,” he said, turning toward the double doors. “We need to discuss the terms.”

“There's no terms but just one term that matters,” I said, matching his stride. “No love, no intimacy, and just strictly business. Do you accept the term?”

He stopped by the exit door, his body was rigid. He turned to face me with his dark eyes, locking onto mine, and a silent battle was raging within him. 

“You are asking me to sell my dignity, Ms Hayes,” he said in a low and raw-challenged voice. 

“I'm only asking you to save a child, Adrian,” I countered, throwing the final and irresistible hook.

“Lucia is waiting.”

The silence between us was thick and heavy with unspoken terms. He looked past me with his gaze fixed on some unseen point in the distance, undoubtedly the image of Martha in the hospital.

He took a slow, agonizing breath, swallowing his pride like bitter medicine.

"Tell me what I have to do," he finally said.

The relief was so immense, it nearly buckled my knees. I had won. I had my husband.

"The wedding is in three days," I whispered, sealing the bargain. "And you move into my penthouse tonight."