Andrea POV:

The conference room at the law firm of Davis, Finch, & Associates was silent and cold.

Mr. Davis, a man with kind eyes and a serious mouth, pushed a thick stack of papers across the polished mahogany table toward me.

"Ms. Ayers, are you certain about this?" he asked, his voice gentle but firm. "The terms are...unconventional. You're waiving your claim to all shared properties, stocks, and you're relinquishing primary custody of your daughter, Bonnie."

I looked at the document. The black ink was stark against the white paper.

"I'm certain," I said, my voice steady. The image of Bonnie's happy face clinging to Danika's arm flashed before my eyes. The thought—Bonnie would be happier with him—was like swallowing shards of glass. I felt the sharp, cutting pain of it against my will.

"I'm certain," I repeated, and this time, my voice was final.

There was no point in fighting for a child who already saw me as an obstacle to her happiness.

I picked up the heavy fountain pen.

In the space provided, I signed my name.

Andrea Ayers.

Not Nixon. I hadn't used that name in my heart for a very long time.

I slid the signed pages back to Mr. Davis. He nodded grimly, placing them inside a simple manila envelope. He sealed it and handed it to me.

After paying his retainer, I took the envelope and left his office.

For the last time, I drove to the Nixon villa. The house was empty. They were probably still out, enjoying their perfect family lunch.

I let myself in and went straight to the kitchen, where Mrs. Sullivan was polishing silverware.

She looked up, surprised to see me with a suitcase and a manila envelope in my hand.

"Mrs. Ayers! I didn't know you'd be stopping by. Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, Mrs. Sullivan," I said, my voice calm and pleasant. "I have an important document that needs to reach Braxton. When he gets home, could you please hand it to him personally? It's urgent."

I held out the envelope.

Mrs. Sullivan wiped her hands on her apron and took it carefully. "Of course, ma'am. I'll make sure he gets it the moment he walks in the door."

"Thank you," I said. "I appreciate everything you've done for us."

I didn't wait for her reply. I pulled my suitcase back to the front door, stepped out into the afternoon sun, and drove straight to the airport.

Braxton POV:

Late that afternoon, I returned home with Bonnie and Danika in tow. They went to Bonnie’s room first.

Mrs. Sullivan met me in the foyer, an envelope held carefully in both hands.

"Alpha," she said, stepping forward. "Mrs. Ayers stopped by earlier. She left this for you. She said it was urgent."

My brow furrowed. I took the envelope from her, turning it over in my hands. Andrea had been here? I assumed it was some paperwork related to her trip.

I was just about to open it when my phone buzzed.

The screen lit up with Danika's name.

I answered it, my voice softening. "Everything okay?"

"Braxton," Danika's voice was a pitch-perfect blend of soft concern and gentle urgency. "I think Bonnie might have a fever. She feels a little warm. Could you come and see?"

All thoughts of the envelope vanished from my mind.

"I'm on my way," I said, my voice sharp with parental worry.

I tossed the envelope onto the hall console table and strode upstairs without a second thought.

I found Bonnie in her room, her cheeks slightly flushed from an afternoon of excitement, not from a fever. Danika was stroking her hair, looking up at me with an apologetic smile.

"Oh, thank goodness," she sighed. "I'm sorry. I must have overreacted. I just worry about her so much."

My concern melted away, replaced by a wave of gratitude. I appreciated how much she cared for my daughter.

"It's alright," I said, my voice warm. "Thank you for being so attentive."

I was then pulled into an emergency international video conference that lasted for three hours. By the time it was over, dinner was ready, and the forgotten envelope still sat on the console table in the hallway.