Chapter 5 - Clause Four
Detective Miller frowned, his eyes darting back to the financial ledger in his hand. He flipped a page, his thumb tracing a dense block of legal fine print near the bottom margin of the custody transfer agreement.
“What are you talking about, Arthur?” Miller demanded, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach.
Arthur let out a dry, humorless chuckle, wincing slightly as he adjusted his posture against the wall.
“Clause four of the emergency probate statutes,” Arthur explained, pride bleeding back into his bruised voice. “If the primary guardian—in this case, Gabriel’s fragile wife currently recovering in the intensive care unit—is incapacitated or deemed medically unfit at the moment of birth, temporary custody defaults automatically to the corporate trustee.”
Gabriel froze. The infant in his arms stirred, letting out a tiny, contented yawn, completely unaware of the bureaucratic trap closing around her. Gabriel’s large hands tightened defensively around the white blanket, his massive shoulders tensing until the seams of his dark suit groaned.
“My wife is recovering from exhaustion, not losing her mind,” Gabriel growled, his voice vibrating with suppressed rage. “She’s resting three floors up.”
“She’s under medically induced sedation following severe postpartum hemorrhaging,” Arthur corrected smoothly, regaining his corporate composure now that he held a legal trump card. “Dr. Sterling—my cousin, I might add—signed off on the charts ten minutes ago. Legally, she is incapacitated. Which means right now, under the letter of the law, that child is a corporate asset of Sterling Industries.”
Detective Miller cursed under his breath, sliding the ledger shut. “Damn it, Arthur. You planned this down to the minute.”
“I plan for every contingency, Detective,” Arthur replied coolly, brushing a speck of dust off his ruined sleeve. “Gabriel can play the grieving, violent husband all he wants, but handcuffs and fists won’t override a federal probate judge’s signature.”
Gabriel stared down at the infant cradled against his chest. Her tiny chest rose and fell in a steady, peaceful rhythm. The warmth of her small body seeped through the thick wool of his shirt, anchoring him against the rising tide of panic and fury threatening to consume him. He had fought in back alleys, survived boardroom coups, and buried enemies without shedding a tear, but the thought of handing this helpless little girl over to Arthur’s cold, calculated machine tore at his soul.
“You want a war over paperwork, Arthur?” Gabriel whispered, his voice dangerously calm. “You’ll get one. But you won’t be taking her anywhere tonight.”
Without waiting for permission, Gabriel turned sharply on his heel, pivoting his massive frame toward the heavy fire-exit doors at the end of the corridor.
“Vance, stop right there! That’s obstruction of justice!” Detective Miller shouted, pulling his hand toward his holster, though he made no move to draw.
Arthur smiled, a chilling, triumphant expression. “Let him run, Detective. He can’t outrun a federal injunction. And besides... check your phone.”
May you like
Miller’s pocket buzzed loudly. The detective pulled out his department-issued smartphone, glanced at the screen, and went completely white. He stared up just in time to see the heavy fire door swing shut behind Gabriel, locking automatically with a loud, final click.
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