The bile in my throat rose so fast I nearly choked on it. I flipped through the pages, hoping this was some cruel mistake. But every line was deliberate.
Zach’s signature, the request for primary physical custody, and a clause buried halfway through: Co-guardianship requested with Ms. Celine Lovelet, long-term partner and medically authorized caretaker.
“Caretaker?” I laughed bitterly.
She was a homewrecker in heels, not a damn nurse. The front doorbell rang again. For a second, I thought it might be Vega, but when I peeked through the peephole, it wasn’t him.
It was Neil Vega—the man I hadn’t seen for years.
My heart hammered so hard I thought Liam might hear it upstairs. I opened the door on trembling feet. Neil stood in the porch light, coat drenched from the rain, face pale and firm. He looked brittle—like a storm about to break.
“Arianne.”
I wanted to shut the door. Bolt it. Pretend he’d never shown up. But something clicked—fear, curiosity, the need for answers. I let him in but he stayed in the threshold.
“What brings you here, detective?”
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”
“Find out what?” I said, voice as cold as the rain.
Neil’s eyes flicked to the kitchen counter, to the custody papers splayed out like a betrayal. Then back to me. “About the photo… I took it. I sent it,” he said, his voice turning octave.
My hands shook. “Why?”
He exhaled, muscles tense. “Because Zach was spiraling. I wanted to wake you up. Show you who he really was, before he could drag you and your son into the wreck. My agency had been tracking some of his associates during his PR fallout; I noticed things. I didn’t mean to pry in your private life, but your husband had been under our investigation for months.”
My forehead scrunched. “What do you mean by investigation?”
“Embezzlement, sort of corruption in his business,” Neil shrugged.
This—custody filing, betrayal, feeling like a stranger in my own life—made me want to scream. Instead I found my voice icy calm. “Your idea of saving me was sending evidence… to myself?
Neil met my gaze. “I wanted to help you, Arianne,” he said, voice firm but gentle.
“Why, Neil? Do I look like a charity case to you?”
“I didn’t say you are… But I know you need my help, that’s why I’m here.”
I pulled out a heavy, frustrated breath. “I appreciate your help, but my lawyer will handle the legal matters prior to my case.”
Neil gazed at me—with longing. We were silent for a second, just looking at each other like the first time we met. After a long beat, he exhaled a deep breath and gently held my hand.
“Listen, I can gather everything—the evidence, statements, records. We’ll build something real against Zach’s custody filing.” He took out a card from his coat and put it on my palm. “I’m only one call away, Arianne. Don’t shut me out of your life this time.”
I swallowed hard. He was offering protection again—the kind I thought only a blade or a lawyer could wield. But now it came from regret and professional integrity. Without trusting myself to speak, I nodded faintly. My throat felt dry, raw. All the embers of hurt and hope flickered inside me, colliding.
As he turned to go, I paused before stepping forward. Even in that second, I found myself stepping into familiar rhythms, calling back memories I’d tried to bury. Neil once saved me, in small ways that became big. Maybe he still can. He disappeared into the drizzle, but in my chest, something sparked: a fragile, dangerous, determined flicker.
I was no longer watching from the sidelines.
I was preparing to fight.
