Chapter 9 - The Birthday Boy
One week later, the sun shone brightly over our backyard in Atlanta.
There were no stuffy relatives. No crystal glassware. No forced traditions. Just a massive, inflatable bouncy castle, twenty screaming kindergarteners, and a towering superhero birthday cake.
It was Leo’s fifth birthday.
He ran across the freshly cut grass, wearing a red cape, his laughter echoing loudly and clearly through the air. The poison had left his system entirely, leaving behind a resilient, vibrant little boy who had no idea he was now the sole beneficiary of an eighty-million-dollar empire. And we weren't going to tell him for a very long time. Let him just be a kid.
Thomas the lawyer stood by the grill with Marcus, holding a freshly signed stack of legal documents.
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"The trust is locked," Thomas said, taking a sip of his beer. "You have full conservatorship. Eleanor’s legal team tried to file an injunction from her jail cell, but the judge threw it out the moment he saw the security footage. She’s looking at twenty years to life."
Marcus looked out at his son, a profound sense of peace settling over his features. "Good. Let her rot."
