Chapter 9 - THE ULTIMATUMTwo weeks later, the Fontaine empire collapsed.
With Cole Capital calling in twenty-five million in bridge loans, and with federal investigators probing Fontaine Agricultural Enterprises for collusion and intimidation following the highway incident involving the semi-truck, Arthur Jr. and Derek found themselves drowning in federal subpoenas and debt.
Derek arrived at the front gates of the Cole estate uninvited on a rainy Thursday morning.
Security didn't let him in. They left him standing at the iron bars in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin, his expensive suit ruined, looking like a ghost of the man who had swaggered into my catering kitchen two years ago.
From the second-floor nursery window, holding Leo in my arms while Clara slept in her crib, I watched him.
Warren stood behind me, his arms wrapped securely around my waist, his chin resting softly on my shoulder.
"He wants to talk," Warren murmured, watching Derek through the glass. "He wants to negotiate."
"There's nothing to negotiate," I said quietly, watching Derek turn away from the gate, defeated, climbing back into a dented rental car that looked nothing like his usual luxury SUVs. "His family tried to kill us. His lawyers tried to steal my children. It's over."
"It is," Warren agreed, kissing the side of my neck. "My lawyers finalized the adoption papers this morning. My name goes on the birth certificates alongside yours. Unless Derek wants to spend the next twenty years fighting federal conspiracy charges, he’s signing away all parental rights by sundown."
I turned around in Warren's arms, looking up into his pale, steady eyes.
"You really adopted them?" I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
"I adopted you all," Warren said, smiling—a warm, genuine smile that transformed his entire face. "Now... we have a wedding to plan. Martha has already threatened to resign if we don't let her cater it, and I am far too terrified of Martha to argue."
I laughed, a bright, clear sound that echoed off the nursery walls.
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"You're terrified of Martha?"
"Completely," Warren admitted, pulling me closer against his chest as the rain continued to hammer softly against the glass. "She’s the only person in Atlanta who scares me more than you do when you're angry."
