“My lawyers have drafted the papers.

You’re finished, Roderick.

We are pulling every cent.

I’m taking half of everything else.” I walked past the tirade to the base of the grand staircase.

“Auberon,” I called, my voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

A moment later the boy appeared at the top of the stairs, terrified, clutching a game console to his chest like a shield.

“Come down here,” I said gently.

He hesitated, glancing at his mother, then slowly descended, and when he reached the bottom I knelt so we were eye to eye.