The cast ran from Lily's ankle to her knee, and it weighed more than she did.

The coffee went stone cold as the sun began to rise over the estate grounds.

Daniel sat in the leather chair, spreading the contents of the folder across the mahogany desk. It wasn't just board paperwork; it was a blueprint.

There were medical records—fake evaluations from a psychologist he had never met, detailing "episodes of explosive anger and severe grief-induced paranoia following the death of his first wife." There were financial statements showing unauthorized transfers from the hotel trust into offshore accounts under Lily’s name, making it look like Daniel was embezzling company funds for his daughter's future.

And then, at the bottom of the stack, he found the pre-nuptial agreement he had signed four years ago.

When Daniel married Vanessa, he had been broken. Caroline’s death had left him hollow, and Vanessa—Arthur Bennett’s polished, attentive daughter—had stepped into his life like a savior. She had cooked meals, organized Lily’s nursery, and urged him to take over as CEO of her family's struggling hotel chain.

The pre-nup stated that in the event of a divorce caused by domestic violence or proven child endangerment on Daniel’s part, full legal custody of Lily would default to Vanessa, along with control of Daniel’s 40% voting shares in Bennett Grand Hotels.

"She didn't want me," Daniel whispered into the empty room. "She wanted the shares."

The front door of the estate clicked open down the hall.

Daniel didn't move. He listened to the quiet, rhythmic clicking of high heels on the hardwood floor.

Vanessa walked into the study, wearing a sharp black trench coat, her diamond earrings catching the morning light. The red mark on her cheek had turned into a faint, yellowish bruise.

She stopped when she saw him sitting behind the desk, surrounded by the spread-out papers.

She didn't look afraid. The timid, heartbroken wife from the ballroom was completely gone.

"You shouldn't be snooping through my personal filings, Daniel," she said smoothly, removing her leather gloves one finger at a time.

"It was dated three days ago," Daniel said, pointing to the notary seal. "You planned the fall."

Vanessa smiled—a small, chilling turn of her lips. "I planned the outcome. Lily’s precise angle on the stairs was up to her. I told her to come down to say goodnight to the board, but the clumsy little thing couldn't manage her cast."

Daniel’s hand tightened around the edge of the desk until his knuckles turned white. "She's seven years old, Vanessa. You raised her for four years."

"I tolerated her for four years," Vanessa corrected him, stepping closer to the desk. "Because her name is on Caroline’s trust, which holds forty percent of this company. As long as you were sane and in control, I was just the devoted stepmother waiting for scraps. Now? You hit me in front of eighty witnesses. The board has already voted. You're out, Daniel."