PART 2 — The Security Team
The bus had barely stopped in front of my apartment building when three black SUVs pulled to the curb.
Every head on the bus turned.
Men in dark suits stepped out with practiced precision.
The oldest among them approached the bus door.
"Mrs. Robertson?"
I nodded.
He offered his hand.
"Your father sent us."
For the first time since Toby was born, someone looked at me with genuine concern.
"Let's get you and your son home."
Twenty minutes later I sat on my living room sofa while a private nurse examined my incision.
"Who are these people?" the nurse whispered.
"My family."
Outside the apartment windows, two security guards remained stationed beside the entrance.
One stayed in the hallway.
Another began changing every lock.
I looked around the apartment.
Nearly everything inside had been purchased by my father before the wedding.
The furniture.
The artwork.
Even the luxury SUV parked downstairs.
Legally...
None of it belonged to Jasper.
Not anymore.
That afternoon my father's attorney arrived carrying a leather briefcase.
Inside were ownership documents.
Apartment deed.
Vehicle registration.
Investment contracts.
Every signature bore my name.
"You've protected him for two years," the attorney said gently.
"Your father asked whether you're finally ready to stop."
May you like
I looked down at Toby.
"Yes."
