The countdown on Charlotte's tablet hit the twelve-hour mark, the digits bleeding red against the dim light of the war room.
12:00:00.
Liam stood at the center of the hub, his reflection ghost-like in the wall of monitors. He looked like a man who had been to war and forgotten the way back. His shirt was rumpled, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with tension.
"If we do this," Charlotte said, her voice unusually small in the cavernous space, "there's no 'undo' button, Liam. A Global Asset Freeze will stop Evelyn's siphon into East Asia, but it'll also trigger every automated sell-off in our portfolio. We could lose 30% of our market cap in the first hour."
"Do it," Liam said. He didn't blink. "I'd rather rule over a graveyard than let her use our blood to build her new throne."
Charlotte's fingers hovered over the terminal. With a sharp exhale, she executed the Security Protocol: Zero-Sum.
Across the globe, from the Tokyo trading floors to the London logistics hubs, the Ashford logo on every corporate screen turned from blue to a flashing, warning amber. The "Global Freeze" was live.
While the financial world began to scream, the silence in the hospital was broken by the sound of polished shoes.
Vivian was staring at her smuggled device when the door to her room opened. It wasn't Liam. It wasn't the nurse.
It was a man in a gray suit, holding a manila envelope.
"Mrs. Ashford," the man said, his voice as dry as parchment. "You've been served."
Vivian winced as she shifted, the bandage on her side pulling painfully. "I'm in a hospital bed. Whatever it is, talk to my lawyer."
"This is an emergency injunction," the server stated, placing the papers on her lap.
"Signed by a presiding judge an hour ago. Given the 'unstable nature' of recent events, your parental rights regarding Daniel Ashford have been temporarily suspended pending a fitness hearing. Furthermore, you are barred from entering any Ashford property, including the boardroom, for the next seventy-two hours."
The world tilted. Evelyn hadn't sent an assassin; she had sent a bureaucrat to amputate Vivian from her son and her company.
"Get out," Vivian whispered, her voice trembling with a cold, terrifying rage.
The man left as quietly as he had arrived. Vivian looked at the papers, then at her smuggled phone. Her thumb moved with purpose. She wasn't going to call a lawyer. She was going to call the one person who knew exactly how Evelyn's "legal" traps were built.
She typed: I know it's you, Aiden. If you want to die with a clean soul, give me the bypass code for the hospital's security elevator. Now.
Seconds later, the phone buzzed. Floor 4. Code 8892. The stairwell is clear for three minutes.
The hospital door creaked open again at 3:00 AM.
Liam walked in, expecting to find Vivian asleep. Instead, he found her standing by the window, dressed in a black tracksuit she'd clearly forced herself into, clutching her side. Her smuggled device was hooked into the room's smart-TV, scrolling through a list of names, the "Human Counter-Leak."
"Vivian? What are you doing? You can't even walk to the bathroom without help."
"I'm leaving, Liam," she said, turning to face him. Her face was pale, but her eyes were like flint. She held up the manila envelope. "She took Daniel. Legally. And she barred me from the meeting."
Liam took the papers, his face darkening as he read. The "digital blood" of his company's crash was still fresh on his mind, but this... this was the final straw.
"She thinks she can win with paper," Liam growled. He walked toward her, stopping only inches away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded document, the original Co-Parenting and Marriage Contract they had signed months ago.
"This started as a deal," Liam said, his voice dropping to a low, rough vibration. "A way to manage a scandal. But there is no Ashford Industries left to protect if we aren't a family."
He held the paper out.
"Burn it," Vivian whispered.
Liam didn't have a lighter. He simply tore the contract into pieces, letting the fragments fall like snow onto the sterile hospital floor.
"We don't need a contract to fight for him," Liam said, his hand finding the back of her neck, pulling her forehead against his. "And we don't need permission to take back what's ours."
"Twelve hours," Vivian murmured against him.
"Ten," Liam corrected, checking his watch.
"Charlotte is waiting downstairs with a decoy car. We're going to the boardroom, Vivian. Injunction be damned."