I leaned back, the leather creaking, and looked at the old photograph of Maren and me on the desk.

“They aren’t liabilities, Victoria,” I said, dropping into a whisper that made Maren shiver across the room. “They’re my sons.”

A cold, sharp laugh came down the line. “They are whatever I decide they are. The court orders are already processed. By tomorrow morning, the state of Nevada will declare that woman an unfit mother, and those boys will become wards of the estate.”

She let it hang like a noose.

“Return to Chicago for the investor meeting. Leave the girl, let my people manage the children. Otherwise I will destroy everything you’ve built in hospitality within forty-eight hours.”

I looked at the screen, my cursor over the button marked Execute Trust Freeze.