“Mrs. Vale braced herself on the wall. Mr. Vale was present.”
Judge Whitmore looked at Marcus.
“Did you observe contact?”
Marcus stood slowly.
Bennett looked like he wanted to physically pull him back into his chair.
“I observed confusion in a crowded hallway.”
Claire said, “There were six people in the hallway.”
Bennett said, “Your Honor—”
Judge Whitmore raised one hand.
Silence.
Then he looked at me.
“Mrs. Vale, are you now requesting medical assistance?”
My stomach tightened.
Not a contraction.
Not exactly.
But enough.
I knew my body.
I knew this child.
I knew stress had a sound and mine had started humming.
“Yes, Your Honor,” I said. “After I finish making one statement.”
Marcus laughed once.
A mistake.
A bad one.
My father’s gaze moved to him like a door locking.
“Mr. Vale, you will remain silent.”
Marcus’s face reddened.
The courtroom saw it.
The billionaire being told to hush like a boy with mud on his shoes.
Mini-payoff number four.
Small, but delicious.
I stood with Claire’s help.
My voice did not shake.
“Your Honor, I am asking the court to deny Mr. Vale’s relocation request, restrict any disposal or transfer of marital assets, preserve my medical coverage, and order that neither Mr. Vale nor Ms. Cross come within two hundred yards of me or my medical appointments pending further hearing.”
Bennett rose.
“Ms. Cross is not a party.”
Claire said, “She just assaulted my pregnant client outside this courtroom.”
Savannah snapped, “I didn’t assault anyone.”
Judge Whitmore said, “Ms. Cross.”
One warning.
One word.
She swallowed the rest.
I continued.
“I am also requesting that all communications regarding my pregnancy go through counsel, and that Mr. Vale’s private security team be barred from contacting my doctors, entering my residence, or interfering with my access to care.”
Marcus stared at me.
There he was.
The man beneath the brand.
