Chapter 4

Welcome to the fight.

Liam went to answer it. Through the window, I could see an older man in an expensive suit carrying a briefcase. The lawyer.

He came inside, looking harried and worried. "Miss Walsh, I'm Samuel Richardson. I apologize for not reaching you sooner. Your stepmother has been blocking my calls for months."

"So I heard. You have a letter from my father?"

"Yes, and I need to deliver it immediately. There's been a development. Your stepmother filed an emergency injunction this morning claiming you're mentally unstable and shouldn't have access to your inheritance. She's asking the court to declare you incompetent and give her control of all your assets, including this property."

"She can't do that. I'm twenty-three years old. I'm not incompetent."

"She has evidence. Photos of you leaving your engagement party in distress, testimony from your fiancé that you've been behaving erratically, and a psychological evaluation from a doctor she hired claiming you're having a mental breakdown."

"That's insane. I've never seen a psychologist."

"She forged the documents." Richardson looked grim. "It's fraud, but it will take time to prove that. Meanwhile, the court granted a temporary restraining order. You're not supposed to access any of your family's assets, including Seaside Manor, until a hearing next week."

"This is my house!"

"Actually, it's in a trust that names your father as executor until you complete the one-year residency requirement. Since he's dead, Patricia is arguing as his widow that she should have control. It's flimsy legally, but she has a judge in her pocket. You need to leave this property immediately, or she can have you arrested for violating the restraining order."

"No." The word came from Jake. "She's not leaving."

"If she stays, she'll be arrested."

"Then let them try." Jake stood up, his usual easy-going demeanor gone. "I'm a renter here with a valid lease. I'm allowed to have guests. Emma is my guest."

"That won't hold up in court."

"It'll hold up long enough," Liam said. "We'll fight the injunction. I'll call my lawyer."

"We fight this the right way," Adrian added. "Legally and carefully. Patricia has made her first mistake. She moved too fast, too obviously. That psychological evaluation? That's evidence of fraud. We can use it."

Richardson looked between the three of them and then at me. "Miss Walsh, these men are right, but you need to understand what you're walking into. Your stepmother is dangerous. Your father's letter will explain everything, but the short version is: she's murdered at least twice that we know of. If she feels cornered, she'll escalate."

"I don't care. I'm not running anymore."

He handed me a thick envelope. "Then read this. Your father spent his last months documenting everything he learned. It's all in here, his suspicions, his evidence, his plans. He wanted you to have the truth and the tools to fight back."

I took the envelope. My father's handwriting on the front: "For Emma. To be opened only if she claims Seaside Manor."

"He knew," I whispered. "He knew I'd run. He knew I'd come here."

"He knew you were your mother's daughter," Richardson said. "Strong enough to face the truth and brave enough to fight for justice. Don't prove him wrong."

After he left, the four of us sat in silence. I stared at the envelope, afraid to open it. Afraid of what my father's final words would say.

"Do you want us to leave?" Liam asked quietly. "Give you privacy?"

I shook my head. "Stay. Please. I don't want to be alone for this."

I opened the envelope. Inside were dozens of pages in my father's neat handwriting. I started reading.

"My dearest Emma, if you're reading this, I'm dead and you've finally come home to Seaside Manor. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you these things while I was alive. I'm sorry I failed to protect your mother and that I failed to be the father you deserved after she died. But I never stopped loving you, and everything I did in my final months was to give you the truth and the tools to survive..."

The letter detailed everything. How he'd found Mom's journal. How he'd investigated Patricia and discovered she'd been planning to kill Mom for years, slowly working her way into our family with the goal of stealing everything. How she'd seduced him after Mom died, married him quickly, and isolated Emma from him using subtle manipulation.

He'd discovered that David wasn't just a random boyfriend, Patricia had introduced them deliberately, grooming David to be Emma's controller. The marriage was supposed to keep Emma docile and distracted while Patricia took over the family business completely.

But then he'd had a heart attack. Not natural, he was sure Patricia had poisoned him too when she realized he was investigating. He'd survived long enough to change his will, to set up the trust, to write this letter. But not long enough to go to the police with evidence that would stick.

"I've set aside money in an account only you can access," the letter continued. "Use it to hire investigators, lawyers, whatever you need. In the safe deposit box at First National Bank, you'll find your mother's journal and all the evidence I collected. The key is hidden in the house, in your mother's darkroom, behind the photograph of you as a baby..."

The letter went on for pages. Instructions, evidence, suspicions. At the end, a final paragraph:

"Emma, you're going to be angry when you learn the truth. You're going to feel betrayed by everyone who kept secrets from you. But please understand, we did it out of love. Your mother's last act was to protect you. Mine was the same. Now it's your turn to protect yourself. Trust Liam and Adrian. They're good men who loved your mother and will keep you safe. And remember: you're stronger than Patricia. You're your mother's daughter. You'll win this fight. I love you. Always. Dad."

I finished reading and looked up. All three men were watching me.

"He was right," I said. "I am angry. At all of you, at him, at Mom. But he was also right that I'm going to win."

"We'll help you," Liam promised.

"I know." I stood up, my decision made. "I'm staying. For the full year. I'm going to fulfill the terms of the will, and I'm going to gather every piece of evidence I need to destroy Patricia. And then I'm going to watch her go to prison for murdering my parents."

Jake grinned. "That's the spirit."

"But I need to know something first." I looked at each of them. "My father trusted you. My mother trusted you. Can I trust you? Really trust you? Because I can't do this alone, and I can't afford to have people around me who are going to lie or keep secrets or decide what I should and shouldn't know."

"No more secrets," Liam said immediately.

"Full honesty," Adrian agreed.

"I'm an open book," Jake added. "Literally. My entire tragic backstory is available upon request. I have nothing to hide."

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "Then here's the truth: I'm terrified. I just ran away from my wedding, discovered my parents were murdered, and I'm about to go to war with a woman who's killed twice. I have no idea what I'm doing. But I'm not backing down."

"Good," Adrian said. "Because we weren't going to let you back down anyway."

A phone buzzed. Liam checked his. His expression darkened. "It's started. David just posted on social media. He's calling you unstable and claiming you attacked him last night."

I looked at the post. David had a photo of a scratch on his arm, one I'd definitely given him when he grabbed me and a long caption about how worried he was about my mental health. The comments were already full of sympathy for him and speculation about me.

"Let him talk," I said. "I have bigger problems than an ex-fiancé's social media campaign."

But I was wrong. Because at that moment, three cars pulled into the driveway. David was in the first one. My stepmother Patricia was in the second. And the third was a police cruiser.

Patricia had brought the cops to arrest me for violating the restraining order I didn't even know existed until an hour ago. And David was here to watch it happen.

Jake looked out the window. "Well, shit."

"What do we do?" I asked.

Liam's jaw set. "We don't let them take you."

"If I resist arrest"

"You're not resisting. You're a guest in Jake's rental. They can't arrest you for being in a house you're legally allowed to be in."

"She has a restraining order," Adrian said grimly. "If she's on the property..."

"Then I'll say she's staying in the cottage with me," Liam interrupted. "The cottage isn't technically part of the main house. Different address."

"That's a technicality that won't hold up"

"It'll hold up long enough for us to get our own lawyer here."

Outside, car doors slammed. I could see Patricia's face through the window, triumphant and cruel. She thought she'd won.

"Emma." Adrian's voice was low and urgent. "Listen carefully. When they come to the door, you don't speak. Not one word. You let us handle this. Understood?"

I nodded.

"Good. Because if you say the wrong thing, they'll arrest you, and once you're in custody, Patricia will have time to forge more evidence, bribe more officials, and bury you. We can't let that happen."

The knock came. Loud. Authoritative. "Police! Open up!"

Liam went to the door. He opened it calmly, blocking the entrance with his body. "Can I help you, officers?"

"We have a court order requiring Emma Walsh to vacate this property immediately."

"I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. Miss Walsh is not violating any court order. She's a guest in my residence, the cottage at the back of the property, which has a separate address and is not covered by the restraining order against the main house."

Patricia pushed forward. "She's here! I can see her through the window! Arrest her!"

"Ma'am, step back," the officer said. Then, to Liam: "Is Emma Walsh here?"

"She's a guest on the property, yes. But as I explained"

"We need to speak with her."

"I'm afraid I can't allow that without a lawyer present."

"Sir, if you obstruct"

"I'm not obstructing. I'm protecting my guest's rights. You have a restraining order for the main house. This is a separate dwelling. Unless you have a warrant specifically for the cottage, you have no legal authority to enter."

The officers looked at each other. They clearly hadn't expected this level of resistance.

David stepped forward, his face twisted with fake concern. "Emma, please. I'm worried about you. You're not thinking clearly. Just come with us, and we'll get you the help you need."

I couldn't stay quiet anymore. I stepped into the doorway next to Liam.

"I don't need help, David. I need you to leave me alone."

"See?" David turned to the officers. "She's clearly unstable. She left our wedding without explanation, she's shacked up with strange men"

"I'm not shacked up with anyone. I'm staying in a house that belongs to my family."

"A house you're legally barred from entering!"

"The restraining order is fraudulent," I said. "And you know it. You and Patricia cooked this up together to try to control me. But I'm done being controlled."

Patricia's mask slipped for just a second. I saw the fury in her eyes, the calculation. She was trying to figure out how much I knew.

"Emma, darling," she said in her sweet fake voice. "You're confused. You've been through so much stress. The wedding, losing your father, and now this, obsession with conspiracy theories. Please, let's get you somewhere safe where you can rest."

"Somewhere safe?" I laughed, and it sounded slightly unhinged even to my own ears. "Like the house where you murdered my mother? Is that safe?"

The words hung in the air. Patricia's face went white, then red. The officers looked confused. David's expression said he thought I'd lost my mind.

"What is she talking about?" one of the officers asked.

"She's delusional," Patricia said quickly. "My husband's first wife died of natural causes five years ago. Emma has been struggling with grief and now she's inventing wild stories"

"Stories? Really?" I pulled out my father's letter. "Because my father documented everything before you killed him too. Digitalis poisoning, Patricia. Same method for both of them. And I have proof."

That was a lie. I had suspicions and accusations, but no proof that would hold up in court yet. But Patricia didn't know that.

Her eyes narrowed. "You have nothing."

"Try me."

We stared at each other across the threshold. The officers looked between us, clearly out of their depth. This had gone from a simple restraining order enforcement to accusations of double murder.

"Officers," Adrian said smoothly, stepping forward. "I'm Dr. Adrian Cross. I was Catherine Walsh's physician when she died. I'd be happy to discuss the circumstances of her death with you. But perhaps this conversation should continue at the station, with lawyers present?"

"That won't be necessary," one officer said. "This is a civil matter for now. Miss Walsh, you need to"

"She needs to do nothing," a new voice said.

A woman in an expensive suit was walking up the driveway. She was in her forties, with sharp eyes and an air of authority.

"I'm Margaret Chen, attorney at law. I represent Miss Walsh. Officers, my client is not violating any restraining order. She is a guest at a separate residence with a different address. Your order is not applicable. If you attempt to remove her, you'll be violating her civil rights, and I will sue both you and the department."

Wait. Chen? As in David's family?

The woman saw my expression and smiled slightly. "I'm David's aunt. And I've been waiting years for someone to finally take him and his father down. When I heard you'd called off the wedding and that you were fighting Patricia Walsh, I knew it was my chance."

David went pale. "Aunt Margaret, you can't"

"I can and I will. You're a disgrace to the family name, David. And your father's business practices are criminal. I've been gathering evidence for the state bar association for months."

Everything was spiraling out of control. The police, Patricia, David, and now a lawyer I'd never met who apparently had her own agenda.

The officers decided they'd had enough. "This is clearly a complex legal situation. We're not taking anyone into custody today. Miss Walsh, you're advised to stay away from the main residence. Mrs. Walsh, if you have issues with the restraining order, take them up with the judge at the hearing next week. Everyone else, I suggest you get lawyers and work this out in court."

They left. Patricia and David had no choice but to leave too, though Patricia's parting look promised this wasn't over.

When they were gone, Margaret Chen came inside. "Well, that was entertaining. Now, let's talk about how we're going to destroy all of them."

I looked at Liam, Adrian, and Jake. They looked as confused as I felt.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked Margaret.

"Because my nephew is a predator who's been enabled his whole life. Because his father runs a corrupt law firm that's ruined lives. And because you, Emma Walsh, just became the perfect weapon to take them all down. Plus, I really did like your mother. We served on a charity board together years ago. She was good people."

She opened her briefcase. "I'm going to be honest with you. This is going to get ugly. Patricia is going to fight dirty. David is going to make your life hell on social media and possibly in person. You need to be prepared for war."

"I am prepared."

"Good. Then let's start planning. We have one week until the hearing. One week to gather enough evidence to not only defeat the restraining order but to start building a criminal case against Patricia. Can you handle that?"

I thought about my mother, poisoned slowly over months. My father, dying alone knowing his killer would go free. Five years of lies and manipulation.

"I can handle it," I said.

Margaret smiled. "Then welcome to the fight, Emma. It's going to be one hell of a ride."