I ASKED A BILLIONAIRE FOR ONE WEEK WITH HIS BROKEN TWIN SONS - THEN HIS SISTER SMILED AT ME LIKE SHE ALREADY KNEW HOW TO DESTROY IT

Three days later, the storm reached its peak.

Charlotte’s legal team had filed an emergency motion in New York Family Court, requesting immediate temporary custody of Leo and Toby Sterling, citing an "unfit home environment, psychological endangerment, and emotional coercion by an unvetted third party."

The hearing was set for Thursday morning.

The news had exploded across every major network. Paparazzi camped outside the gates of Sterling Manor twenty-four hours a day, their long telephoto lenses aiming through the iron bars every time a vehicle entered or exited.

Inside the house, I was keeping the boys protected. We moved our art studio to the basement playroom, where there were no windows for cameras to peek through.

While the boys were happily painting a massive wooden pirate ship they had built with Leo’s robotics tools, I walked up to Julian’s private office on the third floor to bring him his lunch tray.

I knocked softly on the heavy oak door. "Julian?"

"Come in, Maya," his voice called out.

I pushed the door open. The office was dimly lit, the floor covered in thick stacks of legal files, bank statements, and medical records. Julian was sitting behind his massive glass desk, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, rubbing his temples in exhaustion.

I set the silver tray down on the desk next to a stack of blue folders. "You need to eat something, Julian. You haven't slept in thirty-six hours."

Julian looked up, offering me a weak, grateful smile. "I’ll eat in a minute. I’m just going through Charlotte’s old correspondence with the boys' former pediatricians."

As I turned to leave, my eyes fell on a thick yellow envelope sticking out from under a stack of medical charts on the side table. It had the crest of St. Jude’s Private Hospital stamped on the front.

"What's this?" I asked, pointing to the envelope.

"Charlotte’s medical report from the night of the vase incident," Julian said, his voice flat. "Her lawyer sent it over as part of the evidence packet for Thursday. They claim she suffered a deep laceration requiring twelve stitches and permanent nerve damage."

I frowned. Something in my brain clicked—a tiny detail from that chaotic afternoon that hadn't made sense at the time.

"Julian," I said slowly, walking over to the table and pulling the medical report out. "When Charlotte fell next to the vase... she was clutching her left arm."

Julian paused, his hands freezing over his keyboard. "Left arm?"

"Yes," I said, opening the folder and scanning the surgical notes signed by a Dr. Richard Vance. "This report says the laceration and nerve damage were treated on her right forearm."

Julian stood up so fast his leather chair rolled back against the wall.

He walked over to my side, grabbing the folder from my hands, his eyes flying down the page. "Dr. Richard Vance... that’s Charlotte’s personal physician. The same doctor who recommended the residential facility in Switzerland for the twins."

"Look at the date, Julian," I pointed out, my finger tapping the bottom of the page. "The intake timestamp says 4:15 PM on Tuesday. But Charlotte didn't leave the mansion until 8:30 PM!"

Julian’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure, lethal fire.

"She faked the medical report," Julian whispered, a dark thrill of triumph rising in his voice. "She had Vance draft a fraudulent injury report before she even broke the vase in the drawing room!"

He grabbed his desk phone and hit speed dial one.

"Harrison," Julian barked into the receiver. "Get the legal team on a conference call. And call the State Medical Board. I want a full subpoena issued for Dr. Richard Vance’s financial records within the hour."

He hung up the phone, turned around, and looked at me.

Before I could say anything, Julian reached out, grabbed my waist, and pulled me flush against his body.

"You brilliant, beautiful woman," Julian breathed, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the room spin around me.

"I... I just read the timestamp," I stammered, my heart pounding against my ribs like a jackhammer.

"You saved my sons again," Julian whispered.

He didn't wait. He leaned down, his lips closing over mine in a deep, desperate, breathtaking kiss that swept every thought from my head.

His hand cradled the back of my neck, his thumb caressing my cheek as he held me tight against him. I melted into his warmth, my hands rising instinctively to wrap around his shoulders, burying my fingers in his dark hair.