The apartment was entirely silent save for the muffled rhythm of the snow hitting the glass and the soft, steady breathing of the little girl asleep on the sofa.

Victor’s heart slammed against his ribs. He stood up instantly, placing a reassuring hand on Sophie’s trembling shoulder. "Stay right here, Sophie. No one is going to touch you. I promise."

He walked quickly down the hallway, his jaw tightening into a hard line. He threw the front door open, expecting social services, police, or perhaps even one of Marcus's investigators.

Instead, standing on the welcome mat in a designer winter coat, looking furious and completely out of place, was Amanda. His ex-wife.

"Amanda? What are you doing here?" Victor demanded, blocking the doorway. "Clare isn't supposed to be with me until next weekend."

"Don't play games with me, Victor," Amanda snapped, pushing past him uninvited into the foyer. Her breath smelled faintly of expensive champagne and cold air. "My mother called me ten minutes ago. One of her country club friends saw you walking through the Westlake district last night carrying a little homeless girl in your arms."

Amanda whirled around, her eyes flashing with anger. "Are you out of your absolute mind? You're in the middle of a bitter custody battle over Clare, and you're picking up stray kids off the street and bringing them to your apartment?"

"Keep your voice down," Victor hissed, closing the door firmly behind her. "You're scaring her."

"Scaring her?" Amanda scoffed, marching toward the kitchen. "Victor, I am protecting our daughter. If the family court judge finds out you're running an unauthorized orphanage, Amanda's custody motion becomes a slam dunk. Clare will never step foot in this apartment again."

Before Victor could intercept her, Amanda stepped around the corner into the kitchen.

Sophie sat frozen at the table, her fork suspended mid-air, her amber eyes wide and terrified as she stared at the strange, angry woman standing in the doorway.