Chapter 318:

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“Tessa,” she said, her voice perfectly level. “Cancel my afternoon. And get me a meeting with Aethel’s top litigator. The one who specializes in custody and restraining orders.”

Tessa just stared at her, confused.

“I’m filing for an emergency protective order,” Elisa said, each word a chip of ice. “To prohibit Tate Mills from coming within one hundred yards of my daughter. Under any circumstances.”

This was no longer about business. It was no longer about a broken marriage.

This was war. And she had just drawn a line in the sand around her child.

Back in the safe house, the sharp, chemical smell of burn cream hung in the air. Elisa sat on the sofa, a thin layer of white ointment covering the angry red patch on her neck and chest. The pain was a constant, hot thrum against her skin.

She had just gotten off the phone with the lawyer. He was drafting the petition for the restraining order but had warned her it was an uphill battle. He’d said they needed to prove a “clear and present danger,” and a single playground incident might not be enough for a judge. She’d cut him off, her voice sharp. “It won’t be a single incident. Start digging into Tate’s records at his previous school. I want every disciplinary note, every complaint from other parents. I want a pattern. Find it.” The lawyer, taken aback by her cold command, had simply said, “Yes, ma’am.”

Ro𝗆𝗮ո𝘤𝗲 no𝘷𝖾𝘭ѕ 𝘰𝘯 𝗀a𝘭𝘯𝘰v𝗲l𝗌.𝘤о𝘮

A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and mindlessly picked up her phone to scroll through the news.

An Instagram notification popped up at the top of her screen. Devon Browning had tagged August Chambers and Allena Mills in a new post.

Like a moth to a flame, she tapped on it.

The photo was taken in a pristine, sun-drenched hospital room. Allena was propped up against a mountain of fluffy white pillows, looking pale and beautiful, a damsel in distress. August sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hand, his expression one of deep, soulful devotion.

But the focal point of the photo, the thing it was clearly designed to showcase, was the matching watches on their clasped wrists.

They were new. Patek Philippe. The Nautilus, in rose gold. A his-and-hers set, notoriously difficult to acquire, worth a small fortune.

Devon’s caption was a masterpiece of sycophantic drivel: “Some people guard their love with their lives. Praying for my friends. @AugustChambers @AllenaMills #PowerCouple #Unbreakable”

The comments section was a flood of fawning support from New York’s elite, praising their “true love” and wishing Allena a speedy recovery.

Elisa felt a surge of nausea so intense she thought she might be sick.

So this was his response. After Allena’s collapse, after the chaos, he hadn’t reflected. He had rewarded her. He had gone out and bought a monumentally expensive symbol of their unity and broadcast it to the world.

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