James Carter crossed the tiled corridor with long, measured strides, his designer shoes clicking against the linoleum. The sterile smell of the hospital hit him harder now, mixing with the metallic tang of his own dried blood. But none of that registered. His entire world had narrowed down to the little girl kneeling on the floor and the name she had just spoken.

He didn't even look at the sleeping child in the corner. His cold, calculating eyes locked instantly on James and Rebecca.

“Well,” Arthur said, his voice smooth and devoid of any warmth as he walked toward the bed. “A dramatic scene fit for a soap opera. Though I must say, James, I expected better of you than wallowing in a charity ward over a woman who clearly knows how to play the long game.”

James slowly stood up from his chair. He didn't yell. He didn't rush forward. He simply straightened his suit jacket, smoothed his cuffs, and stepped between Arthur and the hospital bed, blocking his father’s view of Rebecca completely.

“Get out,” James said softly.

Arthur raised a single eyebrow, a faint, condescending smirk playing on his lips. “Excuse me? You’re ordering me out of a hospital that my capital helped fund? James, let’s be professionals. The girl—the little one sleeping in the chair—she’s what, four years old?”

“Step away from the bed, Arthur,” James warned, his voice dropping an octave.

“Don't be absurd,” Arthur dismissed him with a wave of his hand, trying to step around his son. “Listen to me, Rebecca,” Arthur called out, raising his voice slightly to address her over James’s shoulder. “You’re a survivor. I’ll give you that. Five years on the run, scraping by, and now you use a staged traffic accident to hook my son back in? Impressive. But let’s talk numbers. How much is it going to take this time to get you and your bastard child out of New York permanently? A million? Five million?”

CRACK.

The sound echoed sharply through the quiet hospital room.

Arthur stumbled backward two steps, clutching his left cheek where a bright red handprint was already blooming across his pale skin. His glasses slid crookedly down his nose.

For the first time in his life, Arthur Carter looked genuinely shocked. He stared at his son with wide, disbelieving eyes. “You... you struck your own father?”

James lowered his right hand, his knuckles stinging, his chest heaving with cold fury. “You talk about bastards, Arthur? Look in the mirror. You ruined lives for sport, you threatened a terrified young woman, and you think you can walk in here and throw a price tag on my family?”

“Family?” Arthur sneered, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand, his eyes turning venomous. “That little girl has no legal claim to the Carter name! And as for this woman, she signed a binding confidentiality and financial settlement agreement five years ago! I have the signed copy in my office safe right now!”

“You mean the agreement you extorted under the threat of destroying her brother?” James asked, taking a slow step toward his father.

Arthur’s expression flickered for a microsecond—just a brief flash of hesitation—before he recovered his icy composure. “Business is business, James. And as of ten minutes ago, my legal team filed an emergency ex-parte petition for full emergency custody of the child on the grounds of maternal abandonment, financial instability, and medical endangerment. By tomorrow morning, social services will take that little girl, and Rebecca will be facing federal perjury and fraud charges for violating her previous settlement.”

Rebecca let out a sharp gasp from the bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin, her face draining of all remaining color. “No... you can't... Lily is my baby...!”

James turned back toward Rebecca for a fraction of a second, offering a reassuring nod, before locking his eyes back onto his father.

“You think you control the courts, Arthur?” James asked, a chilling smile spreading across his face. “You think your lawyers are untouchable?”

“I built this city’s legal network from the ground up,” Arthur said with absolute arrogance. “Nobody in New York judiciary will touch a case against Carter Meridian.”

“True,” James agreed smoothly, pulling his phone out of his pocket with his left hand. “Which is why I didn't use the New York judiciary.”

James pressed a single button on his screen and held the phone up.

A heavy, static-filled audio recording began playing through the speakerphone, echoing off the sterile walls of the VIP suite:

“...She’s a distraction... I simply helped her realize that her presence was holding back your career... I gave her fifty thousand dollars to start a new life... If she ever came back, I’d make sure she vanished permanently...”

Arthur’s face went completely grey. The arrogant smirk vanished, replaced by a mask of sheer panic.

“Where... where did you get that?” Arthur stammered, stepping back.

“While you were threatening my son over the phone ten minutes ago,” James said, his voice ringing with absolute triumph, “I wasn't just listening. I was streaming it live to the Federal Prosecutor’s Anti-Corruption Task Force, alongside every single financial record, forged bank statement, and extortion memo you stored in your private corporate server.”