The storm had broken by the time the emergency rescue team cut through the fallen tree and transported them to Sterling Medical.
Victoria lay in a private suite, Leo sleeping in a bassinet beside her. She was bruised, battered, and exhausted, but the fog of the sedatives was gone.
The door flew open. Lady Beatrice Croft marched in, flanked by two lawyers in dark suits.
“Finally,” Beatrice announced, ignoring Victoria and heading straight for the bassinet. “We need to have the child transferred to the NICU immediately. I have papers here granting me temporary custody due to the mother’s… traumatic circumstances.”
She reached for the crib.
“Don’t you touch him.”
The voice wasn’t loud, but it was lethal. Victoria swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stood up, swaying slightly, still wearing a hospital gown, but her eyes were blazing. The “Scared Girl” who had hidden in the studio was gone.
“Victoria, sit down,” Beatrice scoffed. “You are in no condition–“
“I said get out,” Victoria interrupted, stepping between Beatrice and her son. She didn’t look at the lawyers. She looked her husband’s grandmother in the eye. “This is *my* son. And if you ever try to use a court order to take him again, I will go to the press and tell them exactly what happened in the East Wing. I will tell them about the gaslighting. I will tell them about the ‘hallucinations.’ I will burn your legacy to the ground.”
Beatrice bristled, looking to William for support. “William, control your wife.”
William stepped forward. He didn’t stand between them; he stood at Victoria’s shoulder, presenting a united front.
“She isn’t just my wife, Grandmother,” William said coldly. “She is the mother of the heir. And she just evicted you. Get out.”
Beatrice looked from William to Victoria, realizing with a jolt that the power dynamic had shifted. She signaled her lawyers, and they retreated, leaving the Lioness and her pride in peace.