The courthouse steps were slick with rain and history.
Amaiyla paused at the bottom, staring up at the stone facade as if it could speak. If it could, it would probably tell her the same thing Tammy had said in the car—this is the only building your father can't buy quickly enough.
Her breath fogged in the cold.
Xander stood beside her, a half step back like he was letting the decision remain hers. He wasn't touching her, but she felt him anyway—steady presence, contained violence.
Tammy moved ahead, already scanning the entrance, the cameras, the reporters lingering under umbrellas like they'd been summoned by instinct.
Or by someone.
Amaiyla swallowed.
"This is insane," she whispered.
Tammy glanced back. "No. This is documented."
Xander's voice was low. "Once we go in, you don't hesitate."
Amaiyla let out a shaky laugh. "I didn't realize you were the kind of man who gives motivational speeches."
"I'm not," Xander replied. "I'm the kind who knows what hesitation costs."
The words landed deep.
Amaiyla stepped forward into the rain.
Halfway up the steps, a voice cut through the air.
"Amaiyla!"
She stopped.
The man pushing through the crowd wasn't a reporter. Too clean. Too controlled. Too familiar.
Her father's aide—one of John Hollingsworth's long-term "fixers." The kind who smiled while he rearranged people's lives.
"Amaiyla," he said again, breathless, holding up a hand as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. "Your father is worried. Please. Come with me."
Amaiyla's stomach turned.
Tammy's eyes narrowed. "He's fast."
Xander's gaze went cold. "He's not here by accident."
The aide kept his voice gentle. "This is not the place for this. Not in public. Not like this."
Amaiyla stared at him. "It's always public when it benefits him."
The aide's expression flickered. "Your father doesn't want conflict."
Amaiyla took another step up. "He uploaded private footage of me."
The aide's eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn't expected her to say it out loud.
"Amaiyla—" he began.
Xander stepped forward, cutting the distance with quiet authority.
"She's not speaking to you," Xander said.
The aide's eyes slid to Xander and hardened. "This is between her and her family."
Xander's voice didn't rise. "Then her family should stop acting like an enemy."
The aide's mouth tightened, then softened again in that false way that tried to sound kind.
"You don't understand," he said to Amaiyla, ignoring Xander. "Your father is trying to protect you from what happens when you fight him."
Amaiyla's hands curled into fists. "Or he's trying to protect himself."
The aide stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Come with me. He can make all of this go away."
Tammy's smile was thin. "That's extortion with better manners."
The aide's gaze snapped to Tammy. "Who are you?"
Tammy leaned in slightly. "Someone who keeps receipts."
The aide's face tightened. He turned back to Amaiyla and tried again, softer.
"Your mother is… upset," he said carefully. "Your sister is confused. You're scaring them."
Amaiyla felt anger rise like a storm.
"Don't use them," she said through her teeth. "Don't ever use them."
Xander moved closer to Amaiyla—not touching, but close enough that his presence became a wall.
"She's not going anywhere," Xander said.
The aide's jaw flexed. "Mr. Reyes, your father is already… displeased."
Xander's eyes sharpened. "He can be displeased in silence."
The aide stared at him, then exhaled.
"You're making an enemy of the wrong man," he said.
Xander's mouth curved faintly, humorless. "So are you."
Amaiyla took a steadying breath, turned away from the aide, and walked the remaining steps.
She didn't look back.
But she felt the cameras.
Felt the click-click-click like a countdown.
Inside, the courthouse smelled like paper and consequences.
Tammy guided them through security with calm efficiency, flashing credentials Amaiyla didn't recognize and using names that made clerks move quicker.
Xander stayed close, silent, eyes scanning corners like he expected someone to jump out from behind a column with handcuffs and a lie.
Amaiyla's heart wouldn't slow.
They were ushered into a small conference room with plain chairs and an even plainer table. A woman entered a minute later—mid-forties, sharp eyes, hair pulled back with the kind of neatness that said she didn't tolerate nonsense.
"Ms. Hollingsworth," the woman greeted. "I'm Ms. Patel. Emergency duty counsel."
Amaiyla's throat tightened. "I—thank you for meeting me."
Ms. Patel sat and opened a file. "I understand you're seeking an injunction regarding distribution of non-consensual surveillance footage, and a protective order related to coercion."
Amaiyla nodded slowly, hearing the words like they belonged to someone else.
Ms. Patel's gaze sharpened. "Before we proceed, I need you to understand something. These filings are not a public statement. They are a legal weapon."
Tammy's expression didn't change. "That's why we're here."
Ms. Patel glanced at Tammy, then at Xander. "And you are?"
Xander's voice was calm. "A relevant party."
Ms. Patel's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you her fiancé?"
Amaiyla flinched at the word.
Xander didn't. "According to documents I didn't write."
Ms. Patel's pen paused. "Noted."
Amaiyla swallowed. "I want it on record that I did not consent to being monitored. And I did not consent to that footage being shared."
Ms. Patel nodded. "Do you have reason to believe it was recorded in your home?"
Amaiyla hesitated.
Xander answered without hesitation. "Yes."
Ms. Patel looked at him. "How do you know?"
Xander's jaw tightened. "Because the timing is too precise. It was uploaded within minutes of her statement. That requires immediate access."
Tammy added quietly, "And because John Hollingsworth's favorite talent is turning private moments into public compliance."
Ms. Patel's gaze sharpened. "You're accusing a powerful man of extortion."
Amaiyla lifted her chin. "I'm not accusing. I'm documenting."
Ms. Patel held her stare for a long moment.
Then she nodded once.
"Good," she said. "Because documentation changes the game."
She slid a form toward Amaiyla.
"Read. Sign if accurate," Ms. Patel said. "This becomes official when filed."
Amaiyla stared at the paper.
Her name looked different here.
Not glamorous.
Not socialite.
Not "heir."
Just a person who could be harmed.
Her hand shook slightly as she reached for the pen.
Xander's voice was low. "Amaiyla."
She looked up.
His gaze was steady—no pressure, no command.
Just… presence.
"You don't have to do this alone," he said quietly.
Amaiyla swallowed. "I'm not."
And she signed.
The ink dried fast.
So did the room.
Because the moment she signed, it wasn't theory anymore.
It was a filed claim against her father's world.
Ms. Patel took the paper and stood. "I'm filing this now. There will be a hearing request. There may be delays—powerful families know how to stall."
Tammy's smile sharpened. "So we force speed."
Ms. Patel arched an eyebrow.
Tammy nodded toward Amaiyla. "She made a public move. Now she's making a legal one. That's a pattern the press can't ignore."
Ms. Patel studied Amaiyla. "Do you want publicity?"
Amaiyla's stomach clenched. The memory of cameras and John's smile flashed through her mind.
"I want protection," Amaiyla said. "If publicity is the price, I'll pay it."
Xander's gaze flickered—something like pride, quickly masked.
Ms. Patel nodded. "Then you should prepare for retaliation."
Amaiyla exhaled. "I'm already living it."
Ms. Patel left.
The door shut.
For a moment, the room felt too small.
Amaiyla pressed her palms to the table, breathing hard.
Tammy spoke first. "You just made your father angry in a way he can't fix with charm."
Amaiyla's voice was thin. "He's going to come for me."
Tammy corrected, "He's going to come for control."
Xander's jaw tightened. "And I'm going to stop him."
Amaiyla looked at him. "How? You're suspended. You lost authority."
Xander met her gaze. "I lost permission. Not capacity."
Tammy's phone buzzed.
She checked it once and went still.
Xander noticed immediately. "What."
Tammy's expression turned flat. "John's counsel is at the courthouse."
Amaiyla's blood ran cold. "Already?"
Tammy nodded. "He anticipated this."
Xander's voice dropped. "Or someone tipped him."
Amaiyla swallowed hard, looking between them. "So what now?"
Tammy leaned in slightly. "Now we learn how dirty he'll play."
As if on cue, Amaiyla's phone buzzed.
A text message.
From her father.
No greeting.
No warmth.
Just one line:
John: Come home. Or the people you love will pay for your defiance.
Amaiyla's throat tightened so hard she could barely breathe.
Xander's eyes darkened when he saw the screen.
"That's a threat," Xander said quietly.
Tammy's voice was calm. "Save it."
Amaiyla's hands trembled. "Connor—"
Xander's jaw flexed. "He's the easiest target."
Amaiyla squeezed her eyes shut. "This is my fault."
Tammy's tone turned sharp. "Stop saying that. Your father makes choices. You're not responsible for his cruelty."
Amaiyla opened her eyes, breathing hard. "What do I do?"
Xander stepped closer. "You don't answer him."
Amaiyla blinked. "What?"
Xander's voice was controlled, but something in it burned. "You don't respond with fear. You respond with structure."
Tammy nodded once. "We draft a legal reply through counsel, not a personal one."
Amaiyla whispered, "And if he hurts Connor before that?"
A silence hit—sharp and ugly.
Xander looked away for half a second, then back at her.
"If John touches Connor," Xander said quietly, "I take the last restraint I still have… and I break it."
Tammy studied him. "That would mean defying Harold again."
Xander's mouth curved, humorless. "I'm already doing it."
Amaiyla stared at him. "Why?"
Xander's gaze held hers.
"For the same reason you signed that paper," he said. "Because if we don't draw a line now, they'll draw one around us later."
The door opened.
Ms. Patel returned, expression tight.
"It's filed," she said. "And someone has already requested access to the motion."
Tammy's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
Ms. Patel hesitated. "John Hollingsworth's firm. They're… unusually fast."
Amaiyla's stomach dropped.
Ms. Patel continued, "And there's something else. A welfare concern has been registered."
Amaiyla froze. "What?"
Ms. Patel looked directly at her. "A claim that you are being coerced by Mr. Reyes."
The air turned to ice.
Amaiyla's breath caught. "That's—"
"A lie," Tammy finished calmly.
Ms. Patel nodded. "It's a tactic. If they can frame you as a victim of him, they can remove you 'for your protection.'"
Amaiyla's legs felt weak. "So he's trying to take me."
Xander's voice turned lethal. "Over my dead body."
Ms. Patel's gaze flicked to Xander. "Careful, Mr. Reyes. Threats don't help."
Xander didn't blink. "It's not a threat. It's a boundary."
Tammy stepped closer to Amaiyla, voice low. "This is the counterstrike. He's trying to flip your move into his."
Amaiyla's mind raced. "What do I do?"
Ms. Patel answered, "We respond immediately. We request an emergency protective order and challenge the welfare claim."
Tammy's eyes sharpened. "And we make it public."
Amaiyla's throat tightened. "Public?"
Tammy nodded. "He wants to move you quietly. We make quiet impossible."
Xander stared at Tammy. "That will pull Harold into it."
Tammy's smile was thin. "Good. Let Harold watch his son choose."
Amaiyla swallowed. "Choose what?"
Xander's gaze shifted to Amaiyla, steady and dark.
"Choose you," he said quietly. "In a way the world can't pretend it didn't see."
Amaiyla's heartbeat thundered.
Ms. Patel slid another document across the table. "If you sign this, you're formally stating that you are not being coerced by Mr. Reyes and that you fear coercion from your father's side."
Amaiyla stared at the paper.
This wasn't romance.
This wasn't drama.
This was a weapon.
Her pen hovered.
Xander's voice dropped, softer now. "Amaiyla—if you sign that, you paint a target on your back."
Amaiyla laughed shakily. "I already have one."
She met his gaze. "The difference is… now I'm aiming back."
And she signed.
The ink dried.
The room exhaled.
Tammy's phone buzzed again.
She read it once, then looked up.
"What?" Amaiyla demanded, heart racing.
Tammy's voice was calm, almost satisfied.
"John just arrived downstairs," Tammy said. "And he brought cameras."
Amaiyla's blood turned cold.
Xander's expression hardened into something sharp and ready.
Ms. Patel stood. "We need to move."
Amaiyla swallowed. "Move where?"
Tammy's smile curved—dangerous.
"Outside," Tammy said. "Because if John wants a public scene…"
Xander's gaze locked on Amaiyla.
"…we give him one," Xander finished.
Amaiyla stood, pulse roaring in her ears.
They walked toward the courthouse exit together.
And with every step, Amaiyla understood the truth:
The war had changed.
It wasn't whispered anymore.
It was about to be televised.