Chapter 5 - THE MAN WHO THOUGHT HE OWNED HER

Richard Mercer wasn't accustomed to losing.

By noon, he'd called Claire twelve times.

By three, he'd sent a letter threatening immediate foreclosure.

By evening, his attorney had delivered a notice claiming Claire had violated the terms of her mortgage.

I read the documents in my office.

My attorney, Rebecca Shaw, sat across from me.

"Can he do this?"

Rebecca adjusted her glasses.

"He can send threatening letters. Whether he can legally enforce them is another matter."

I looked at her.

"I want everything examined."

"Mortgage history?"

"All of it."

She nodded.

"And Alexander?"

"Yes?"

"Do not contact Mercer personally."

I raised an eyebrow.

She continued.

"Claire needs a legal solution, not a war between powerful men."

I looked at the paperwork.

Then nodded.

"You're right."

Rebecca seemed surprised.

So was I.

That evening, I called Claire.

She answered cautiously.

"Alexander?"

"How are the girls?"

"Fine."

"And you?"

A pause.

"Tired."

I leaned back.

"Rebecca is reviewing the documents."

"Thank you."

"She's also willing to represent you directly, if you'd like."

Claire was silent.

"Alexander, I can't afford—"

"There's a legal-aid organization that may be able to assist. Rebecca can explain the options."

She exhaled.

"Okay."

I hesitated.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"Does Olivia know about me?"

Silence.

Then:

"She knows her biological father is alive."

My chest tightened.

"What else?"

"That he didn't know about her."

I closed my eyes.

"Thank you."

Claire's voice softened.

"I never told her you abandoned us."

I swallowed.

"That means more than you know."

After we hung up, I sat alone for a long time.

I thought about Ethan.

My son.

Nine years old.

His mother, Sarah, had died two years earlier after a long illness.

He'd been struggling ever since.

Now he had a sister.

And three little girls who might someday become part of his life.

I looked at the family photograph on my desk.

Ethan smiled beside Sarah.

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I touched the frame.

"Well, sweetheart," I whispered, "our family just got a little more complicated."