Chapter 7 - The Master Plan
They thought threatening my career would break me. They thought an independent architect couldn't stand against a billionaire’s empire.
They were wrong.
For the next forty-eight hours, I didn't sleep. I didn't go to work. I converted my apartment wall into a war room, mapping out every law firm, every media contact, and every architectural connection I possessed.
Arthur Montgomery ruled through fear and secrecy. His entire power structure depended on keeping the public believing his family was immaculate. A high-profile custody battle involving a hidden triplet pregnancy, corporate coercion, and false imprisonment would obliterate the stock value of Montgomery Heritage Holding Trust.
I called Marcus Vance, a high-school friend who had become one of the most formidable family law litigators in the state.
"It's a heavy lift, Ethan," Marcus said, reviewing the evidence I had compiled—the tattoo photographs, the timeline, the registry records, and the affidavit I had drafted. "Arthur Montgomery owns half the judges in this county. But if we file an emergency ex-parte petition for paternity establishing biological custody, combined with a public injunction, he won't be able to hide behind his gates anymore. The court will order DNA testing immediately."
"Do it," I said without hesitation. "File it today."
"There's one problem," Marcus warned. "Once Arthur gets served with those papers, he'll try to move Camila and the girls out of the country before the judge signs the order. He has private jets and estates in Switzerland. If they leave US soil, you'll be fighting international law for decades."
I thought back to the delivery van I had seen at the gate. My architectural mind began analyzing the layout of The Pines Estate—its security blind spots, its service schedules, and its access routes.
"He won't get them to Switzerland," I said, a cold determination taking over. "Because we're bringing them out tonight."
May you like
Using a burner phone, I managed to send a encrypted message to Nanny Sarah—the woman I had seen with the girls in the park—hoping her soft expression that day meant she wasn't loyal to Arthur, but to the children.
An hour later, my phone chimed with a single line: 10:00 PM. The west garden gate. She wants to go home.
