The security captain repeated Weston’s full name while my grandfather crossed the neonatal unit without taking his eyes off him.
Weston stared as if the polished floor had shifted beneath his shoes.
He knew my grandfather’s face.
Nearly everyone in the financial world did.
He had appeared on magazine covers beside headlines about hostile acquisitions, hospital expansions, and negotiations that had ended with entire boards replaced before lunch.
What Weston did not know was why that man was walking directly toward me.
My grandfather stopped beside my chair and looked through the incubator glass at Sawyer and Quinn.
For one brief second, the ruthless expression disappeared.
“Are they stable?” he asked.
The nurse answered before I could.
“They are stable, sir, but their mother should not be under this kind of stress.”
His eyes moved to the folder in Weston’s hand.
“What kind of stress?”
Weston recovered enough to straighten his jacket.
“This is a private family matter.”
My grandfather turned toward him.
“You came into a restricted neonatal unit, threatened a recovering patient, insulted two critically vulnerable infants, and attempted to leave their mother without access to money or housing.”
Weston’s mouth tightened.
“You have no idea what happened in our marriage.”
“I know what happened during the last ten minutes.”
Ashley shifted behind him.
The ivory coat caught the fluorescent light.
My grandfather looked at it.
“Jade, is that yours?”
“Yes.”
Ashley clutched the coat closed over her stomach.
“Weston gave it to me.”
“He had no right to give it away,” I said.
She rolled her eyes.
“It’s a coat.”
The nurse stepped forward.
“There are initials embroidered inside the lining.
I noticed them when Ms.
Jade wore it during an earlier appointment.”
My grandfather held out his hand.
“Remove it.”
Ashley laughed nervously.
“You cannot order me to undress.”
“You may return the stolen property voluntarily,” he said, “or a female security officer will accompany you to a private room while it is recovered.”
Weston moved between them.
“Nobody is taking anything from her.”
The security captain’s voice hardened.
“Sir, step back.”
Weston raised the folder.
“My wife signed these papers.
The apartment and property are mine.
She has agreed to leave.”
My grandfather looked at me.
“Did you have independent counsel?”
“No.”
“Were you given time to review the agreement?”
“No.”
“Were you threatened with the loss of housing and access to marital funds while hospitalized after major surgery?”
“Yes.”
Weston’s confidence cracked.
“She signed willingly.”
