Chapter 2
Marcus didn't raise his voice.
That frightened Margaret more than shouting would have.
He stood between us, one hand resting gently against Grace's blanket.
"Jordan, please have someone escort my wife and daughter to the private lounge."
Jordan nodded.
"Of course, sir."
Margaret immediately stepped forward.
"Marcus, we can settle this without involving strangers."
He looked at her.
"You involved strangers when you put your hands on my wife in a public lobby."
Her face reddened.
"I barely touched her."
Marcus's jaw tightened.
"Then the footage should clear everything up."
Margaret said nothing.
I watched her carefully.
For years, she'd controlled every family argument by speaking louder than everyone else.
She interrupted.
She accused.
She made people feel guilty until they apologized just to end the conversation.
But Marcus wasn't apologizing.
And for the first time, she seemed to understand that her usual tactics weren't working.
He turned toward me.
"Nia, sweetheart, go sit down. I'll be right there."
I hesitated.
"Marcus, I don't want another fight."
His expression softened.
"I know."
He kissed my forehead.
"But you and Grace deserve peace."
My tears started again.
Jordan guided me toward a private lounge beside the reception area.
A young hotel employee brought water and a comfortable chair.
She offered to dim the lights.
I thanked her.
Then I sat down and looked at my daughter.
Grace was sleeping again.
Her tiny fingers rested beside her cheek.
I couldn't stop thinking about how Margaret had shouted while holding my arm.
One sudden movement.
One moment of carelessness.
And Grace could have been hurt.
I pressed my lips against her forehead.
"I'm sorry, baby."
A voice spoke gently behind me.
"You have nothing to apologize for."
I turned.
Marcus stood in the doorway.
His face was exhausted.
He crossed the room and knelt beside my chair.
"Let me see your arm."
I hesitated.
Then pulled back my sleeve.
There were red marks where Margaret's fingers had pressed into my skin.
Marcus stared at them.
His expression changed.
"Nia."
"I'm okay."
He looked up.
"You don't have to keep saying that."
My face crumpled.
He reached for my free hand.
"You can tell me the truth."
That was all it took.
I started crying.
Not quietly.
Not politely.
I cried like someone who had been holding too much inside for too long.
Marcus wrapped his arms around me carefully, making sure Grace remained supported.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
I shook my head.
"Don't."
"I should have stopped this sooner."
I looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
He swallowed.
Then sat beside me.
"Yesterday, Mom called my office."
I frowned.
"About what?"
"She wanted to know whether the hotel could transfer the suite reservation into her name."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
Marcus nodded.
"She said you were too tired to manage the arrangements."
I stared at him.
"Why would she need the reservation in her name?"
"That's what I asked."
He looked down.
"She told me she'd handle everything while I worked."
I felt cold.
"So you knew she was planning something?"
"No. I refused the change. I didn't think she'd confront you like this."
I looked toward the door.
Margaret was still somewhere in the lobby.
My heart pounded.
"Marcus, she told me you'd canceled the suite."
His expression hardened.
"She lied."
I swallowed.
"She said you were tired of dealing with me."
He closed his eyes.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Then he looked at me.
"Nia, listen carefully."
I waited.
"I love you."
My eyes filled.
"And I love our daughter."
I nodded.
"Nothing my mother says changes that."
I looked down at Grace.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm ruining your life."
Marcus went completely still.
"What?"
I wiped my face.
"Since the baby came, everything has been difficult."
He stared at me.
"The house flooded. You're working nonstop. I can barely sleep."
My voice broke.
"Your mother keeps telling me I'm making everything harder."
Marcus took my hand.
"You're recovering from childbirth and caring for our newborn."
I looked away.
He continued.
"That isn't ruining my life."
Tears slipped down my cheeks.
"Then why does she hate me so much?"
His face tightened.
"I don't know everything yet."
The word yet frightened me.
"What does that mean?"
Marcus hesitated.
Then reached into his jacket.
He withdrew a folded document.
"I found something yesterday."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
He opened the paper.
It was a printed copy of an email.
The sender was Margaret.
The recipient was someone named Patricia Lane.
I didn't recognize the name.
Marcus pointed toward the message.
"Read this."
My hands trembled as I took it.
The email discussed a private arrangement involving the hotel.
There were references to a canceled reservation.
A replacement guest.
And a meeting scheduled for that afternoon.
I looked up.
"Who is Patricia Lane?"
Marcus's expression darkened.
"She's a family attorney who has worked with Mom for years."
I frowned.
"Why would your mother need a lawyer to discuss our hotel suite?"
"That's what I'm trying to understand."
I read the final sentence.
The wording made my stomach twist.
Nia needs to understand that she cannot remain in the Bennett family without accepting my terms.
I stared at the page.
"Her terms?"
Marcus nodded.
"She wants you to sign something."
My heart pounded.
"What?"
He hesitated.
"An agreement."
I looked at him.
"What kind of agreement?"
"Concerning Grace."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
I looked down at my daughter.
Her tiny chest rose and fell beneath the white blanket.
"What about Grace?"
Marcus took a slow breath.
"Mom has been asking whether we would consider making her a legal guardian."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
He shook his head.
"I told her no."
My stomach tightened.
"Marcus, she never mentioned that to me."
"I know."
I remembered the pregnancy.
Margaret insisting on attending doctor appointments.
Margaret asking questions about our wills.
Margaret suggesting I was too inexperienced to raise a child.
I had dismissed those comments as criticism.
Now I wondered whether she'd been building a plan.
"Marcus..."
He squeezed my hand.
"Nobody is taking our daughter."
I wanted to believe him.
But fear had already settled inside me.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
Jordan entered.
"Mr. Bennett, I apologize for interrupting."
Marcus stood.
"What's wrong?"
Jordan looked uncomfortable.
"Your mother has requested access to the presidential suite."
My stomach dropped.
Marcus frowned.
"Why?"
"She claims there are documents inside that belong to her."
I stared at him.
"We haven't even entered the suite yet."
Jordan nodded.
"That's why I wanted to confirm the situation."
Marcus's expression became cold.
"Do not give her access."
"Understood."
Then Jordan hesitated.
"There's something else."
Marcus looked at him.
"What?"
"A woman arrived approximately twenty minutes ago asking to meet Mrs. Margaret Bennett."
My heart pounded.
"Who?"
Jordan checked his tablet.
"Patricia Lane."
Marcus and I exchanged a look.
Then Jordan continued.
"She's carrying a document folder marked Bennett Family Guardianship."
I tightened my arms around Grace.
And suddenly, Margaret's behavior in the lobby made terrifying sense.
May you like
She hadn't simply wanted me out of the hotel.
She wanted me frightened enough to surrender something far more important than a room.
