I wiped the dust from my sleeve and studied the man I had raised alone after his father died. The man whose education I had financed, whose first business I had quietly saved, and whose penthouse, vehicle, and private hospital suite existed because my name appeared beneath every loan agreement.
I had sold my wedding ring to keep Daniel in college, worked night shifts while suffering from pneumonia, and mortgaged our modest home to finance the prototype that eventually made him wealthy. He had either forgotten every sacrifice or chosen to act as though he had.
I smiled.
“Then don’t take anything that belongs to this filthy old woman.”
Daniel’s brow tightened. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll understand by morning.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Please. She’s threatening us with her pension.”
I walked out, leaving the blanket behind.
Inside the elevator, I called my attorney, Miriam Cole.
“Activate the protection clauses,” I said.
She paused. “All of them?”
“All of them. And send the hospital security footage to my office.”
