Chapter 7 - The Declaration of WarPanic is a thief. It steals your logic and replaces it with pure, primal instinct.
As the black SUV pulled away, Amy’s first instinct was to run. To pack Claire’s bags, drive into the mountains, and disappear. It was the same terrified impulse she used to have in the penthouse when the Harrison family made her feel small and invisible.
But as she looked down at Claire, who was happily clapping two wooden trains together, the panic dissolved into something entirely different.
Rage.
She was no longer the frightened girl who had signed a prenuptial agreement without reading it. She was a mother. And mothers do not run when wolves come for their children.
"Hey," Hayes said softly, stepping closer. He didn't touch her, respecting her space, but his presence was a solid, unbreakable wall. "Are you okay?"
"I need to make a phone call," Amy said, her voice shaking, but not from fear.
She walked into the back office, locked the door, and dialed Daniel’s number. He answered on the second ring.
"Amy? Is everything alright? Is it Claire?" Daniel’s voice was instantly laced with anxiety. He had been conditioned over the last three years to know that Amy only called outside of scheduled times for emergencies.
"Your mother was just here," Amy said. Her voice was terrifyingly calm.
The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.
"What?" Daniel finally breathed, the word choked with disbelief. "She’s in Paris. She’s supposed to be at a board retreat."
"She’s in Oregon, Daniel," Amy snapped. "She came into my bookstore. She threatened to take Claire. She told me she has no intention of letting her heir be raised here."
"I am going to kill her," Daniel whispered. It wasn't a corporate threat; it was a guttural, feral promise. "Amy, listen to me. Lock the doors. Do not let Claire out of your sight. I am getting on the company jet right now. I will be there in five hours."
"Daniel, if she files a custody suit—"
"She won't," Daniel interrupted, his voice hardening into the ruthless CEO he had suppressed for years. "I hold the majority shares. I control her trust. If she tries to touch my daughter, I will strip her of every asset she owns. I will handle this, Amy. I swear to you."
He hung up.
Amy placed the phone on the desk. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her hands.
When she walked back out into the main shop, Hayes had already flipped the open sign to 'Closed' and drawn the front blinds. He was kneeling next to Claire, handing her a block to add to her tower.
He looked up at Amy. "Tell me what we're doing."
"You don't have to be involved in this, Hayes," Amy said softly, guilt washing over her. "This is Harrison family drama. It’s toxic, and it’s dangerous."
Hayes stood up. He walked over to her, closing the distance. For the first time, he reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was rough from labor, but incredibly tender.
"I don't care about their money, Amy," Hayes said, looking directly into her eyes. "I care about you. And I care about the little girl building towers on the floor. You aren't fighting this alone. Not anymore."
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For the first time in three years, Amy didn't feel the need to be the only strong one in the room. She exhaled a shaky breath and leaned into his touch.
The war had officially begun. But this time, she had an army.
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