Chapter 7 - The Midnight Visitor
Alejandro motioned for Sam to stay on the steps and walked quickly toward the kitchen. Elena was already standing near the side door, her body tense, looking through the small glass window.
"Who is it?" Alejandro asked quietly, gesturing for his security team to stay alert in the hall.
"It's... it's a woman," Elena whispered, looking confused. "She's holding a legal folder."
Alejandro stepped up to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open slightly, keeping his body blocking the entrance.
Standing under the porch light was a woman in her late thirties, wearing a practical trench coat, her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun. Rain had started to fall, glistening on her shoulders. In her hand, she held a thick leather binder stamped with the official seal of the Illinois Department of Children and Family Services.
"Mr. Vance?" she asked, her voice calm, professional, and entirely unbothered by the heavy security surrounding the estate.
"I am Alejandro Vance. Who are you?"
"My name is Dr. Claire Brooks," she said, holding up a laminated state credential. "I am the senior child welfare supervisor assigned to evaluate the emergency placement petition for the four Gomez children."
Alejandro’s eyes narrowed. "Mercer sent you."
"Dr. Mercer attempted to file an emergency custody claim two hours ago," Dr. Brooks corrected smoothly, stepping inside as Alejandro opened the door further. "Which immediately flagged our division's internal oversight system. When four children who were reported missing from Oregon turn up in the mansion of a billionaire who claims to be their biological father, DCFS doesn't wait for business hours."
She wiped her wet shoes on the entryway mat and looked around the massive, stainless-steel kitchen.
"I'm here to do a welfare check, Mr. Vance," she said, looking him dead in the eye. "Not for Dr. Mercer, and not for your attorneys. For the boys."
Alejandro studied her face. He saw no greed, no fear, and no political motive—only a sharp, uncompromising commitment to her job.
"They're in the living room," Alejandro said softly. "They've just finished eating."
Dr. Brooks followed him through the swinging kitchen doors and into the grand living room.
What she saw was complete chaos.
The formal velvet sofa cushions had been pulled onto the rug to form a makeshift fort. Leo and Toby were currently inside the fort, roaring like dragons. Mateo was sitting at the coffee table, eating chicken cutlets off a paper plate while Elena helped him cut his food. Sam was still sitting near the hallway, flying his dinosaur in circles.
Dr. Brooks stood at the edge of the room, her clipboard tucked under her arm. Her strict expression softened just a fraction as she observed the scene.
"They look well-fed," she noted quietly. "And reasonably happy."
"Elena has taken extraordinary care of them," Alejandro said truthfully. "In conditions that were far from easy."
Dr. Brooks turned her gaze onto Alejandro. "And you, Mr. Vance? What is your role here? You're a man whose schedule is published in Forbes magazine. You live in a palace built for adult entertaining. How do you plan to raise four four-year-old boys who have suffered traumatic loss?"
"I don't know yet," Alejandro admitted, refusing to lie or offer polished corporate assurances. "I spent the last five years living like a ghost in this house. But three hours ago, I learned that my wife's dream of having a family didn't die with her. I have the resources, the security, and the determination to give these boys everything they will ever need. And I'm not letting anyone take them away."
Dr. Brooks watched him silently for several seconds before opening her binder and pulling out a document.
"Temporary emergency guardianship order," she stated, signing the bottom page with a click of her pen. "Valid for seventy-two hours. But understand this, Mr. Vance: on Friday morning, you will stand in front of a family court judge. Dr. Mercer's legal team will argue that you are an unfit, emotionally distant parent who obtained these children through questionable circumstances."
May you like
She handed him the copy.
"If you want to keep them," she warned, "you need to prove that this house isn't just a fortress. You need to prove it's a family."
