Mia was on the floor with the twins. She was building a tower of blocks for Leo, while simultaneously gently rocking Maya in her bouncy chair with her foot. She was laughing, a soft, genuine sound that made William's chest ache.

But every time she stood up or turned in his direction, her face went blank. The light vanished. She looked through him, not at him.

He walked into the living room to pour a glass of water. He needed to make her look at him. To acknowledge him. Even anger would be better than this erasure.

"Leo needs his shots next week," he said.

"I booked the driver. You don't need to worry," Mia said, not looking up from the blocks.

"I am his father," William snapped.

"Biologically," Mia muttered.

William slammed the glass down on the marble counter. "Don't push me, Mia."

Mia's phone rang. She picked it up. Her face transformed instantly.

"Zoe! Hey!" She sounded light. Happy. "Really? Oh my god, that's amazing."

William stiffened. Zoe was Mia's best friend. A troublemaker.

"The application was approved? Yes, I can send the deposit today."

William felt a spike of adrenaline. Deposit?

Mia hung up, smiling.

"You're looking for apartments?" William's voice was dangerously quiet.

Mia turned. "It's not a violation of the prenup."

"You are not going anywhere until my lawyers review everything," he commanded. Panic was clawing at his throat, but it came out as control.

"You can't keep me prisoner, William."

"Think about the press! Think about the family name! If you move out now-"

"Oh, the family name?" Mia laughed, a bitter, sharp sound. "Where was the family name when you were plastered all over Page Six with Lucinda last week?"

William opened his mouth to retort, but his personal cell phone rang. The ringtone he had assigned to the family emergency line.

He frowned, pulling it out. Mother.

He answered. "Mother?"

He listened for two seconds.

The color drained from his face. The glass of water he was holding slipped from his fingers.

Crash.

Shards of crystal exploded across the floor. Water soaked his expensive Italian loafers.

Mia jumped back, startled. She looked at him, ready to fight, but stopped when she saw his expression. He looked like a child who had been struck.

"I... I'm coming. Immediately," William whispered.

He lowered the phone. He looked at Mia, his eyes wide and terrified.

"It's Grandfather," he said. "He collapsed. Massive heart attack."

---

She didn't look at the broken glass. She didn't look at William. She turned and ran to the bedroom.

William followed her to the doorway. She was frantically pulling a dress from the closet. Her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't manage the zipper.

Arthur Sterling. The only man in this godforsaken family who had treated her like a human being. The only one who remembered her birthday. The only one who defended her against Eleanor.

William watched her panic. His eyes narrowed. The fear in her seemed real, but the cynicism in his heart was a deep, rot-filled root.

"Hurry up," he said coldly.

"I'm trying!" Mia snapped, grabbing her purse. Her eyes were swimming with tears.

"Don't overact, Mia," William said.

Mia froze. She turned slowly to face him. "Excuse me?"

"He hasn't signed the final amendment to the trust yet," William said, leaning against the doorframe. "This display of devotion... your timing is impeccable, isn't it? Hoping the old man sees your tears one last time and adds a few zeros to your name?"

The air left the room.

Mia stared at him. For a moment, she looked like she might hit him. Then, her shoulders slumped, not in defeat, but in sheer exhaustion.

"Not everyone operates like a Sterling, William," she said quietly. "Not everyone sees a dying man and sees a bank account."

She pushed past him.

In the elevator, they stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at the steel doors. The silence was suffocating.

Down in the garage, the black Lincoln was waiting with the driver holding the door open. They slid into the back seat. The door thudded shut, sealing them in leather-scented intimacy.

The car merged into the Manhattan traffic. Mia stared out the window, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. A tear escaped, tracking silently down her cheek.

William watched her from the corner of his eye.

The grief looked genuine. The trembling looked real.

A crack formed in his certainty. Is she actually... sad?

He shook his head, physically dispelling the thought. No. She's a master manipulator. She trapped me. She wants the money. He repeated the mantra, rebuilding his walls.

---

The name flashed on the dashboard screen visible from the rear seats.

William hesitated. He glanced at Mia. She was still looking out the window, but he saw her posture stiffen.

He leaned forward and pressed the accept button on the center console control panel.

"William!" Lucinda's voice flooded the cabin, amplified by the surround sound. She was sobbing. "Oh god, William, I heard about Arthur! It's terrible!"

"Calm down, Lu," William said, his voice instantly shifting. It became soft. Protective. The voice he never used with Mia.

"I'm at the hospital already," Lucinda cried. "Eleanor is falling apart. It's so scary here. I need you."

"I'm five minutes away," William soothed. "Just stay in the waiting room. Don't worry."

"Gavin isn't picking up," she wept. "I feel so alone. You're the only one I can count on, William. Please hurry."

Mia turned her head. She looked at the dashboard screen, then at William.

Her husband. Comforting his ex-lover. On speakerphone. While his wife sat next to him.

"Deep breaths, Lu. I'm almost there," William said.

He ended the call. The silence rushed back in, heavier than before.

William shifted in his seat. He felt... uncomfortable. He glanced at Mia.

She was looking at him. Her face was completely devoid of expression. It was chilling.

"She's just scared," William said. He didn't know why he was explaining.

"You don't need to explain," Mia said. Her voice was light, airy. "Your priorities have always been very clear."

"It's not about priorities. She's fragile," William defended, gripping the leather armrest tightly. "She's practically family."

"Yes," Mia said. "Fragile enough to call another woman's husband and cry about how much she needs him."

"You're being paranoid."

"And you're being a doormat," Mia said. "But that's none of my business anymore."

The car pulled up to the Mount Sinai emergency entrance.

Before the driver could come around, Mia opened her own door. She stepped out into the humid air. She didn't wait for him. She walked toward the sliding glass doors, her heels clicking a sharp rhythm on the pavement, leaving him alone in the car with the fading echo of Lucinda's voice.

---