Chapter 2 - The Rothschild Shield
The room dropped ten degrees in an instant.
Lucy immediately retreated three paces, placing her small body directly in front of Lily, her small fingers curling into tight fists. Lily reached out, grabbing the back of Lucy’s faded denim jacket, her eyes darting toward the window as if calculating an exit route.
"They're not going anywhere," Maxwell said.
His voice didn't rise in volume, but it contained a dense, suffocating authority that had flattened rival CEOs in boardrooms across three continents.
Ms. Miller stopped in her tracks, finally turning her eyes to the tall man standing beside the bed. She glanced at his tailored suit, his hand-stitched leather shoes, and the Patek Philippe watch gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
"Excuse me, sir," Ms. Miller said, adjusting her glasses. "Who are you? This is a state administrative matter. Mrs. Winters has no living legal relatives on record, and her medical power of attorney does not extend to child placement upon incapacitation."
"My name is Maxwell Rothschild," he said flatly.
The security guard behind Ms. Miller visibly straightened, his eyes widening as he recognized the face that regularly graced the covers of Forbes and The Wall Street Journal.
"Rothschild?" Ms. Miller faltered, her bureaucratic composure slipping. "As in... Rothschild Technologies?"
"As in the legal grandfather of Lucy and Lily Winters," Maxwell corrected, stepping between the CPS agent and the girls. "And within the next twenty minutes, my legal team will file an emergency petition for temporary emergency custody in the King County Family Court."
Elizabeth let out a ragged breath from the bed. "Maxwell..."
"Rest, Elizabeth," he said, without breaking eye contact with the caseworker. "You spent thirty years protecting them from the world. It’s my turn now."
He pulled his smartphone from his coat pocket, unlocked the screen, and hit a speed-dial button. He set the call on speaker.
"Maxwell?" a sharp, brilliant voice answered after half a ring. It was Arthur Pendelton, the head of Rothschild Global Legal and a legend in civil and corporate litigation. "Where are you? The board is waiting on the conference line for the final sign-off on the merger."
"Terminate the merger, Arthur," Maxwell ordered calmly.
A beat of absolute silence echoed over the speaker. "Say again, Max?"
"Pull out of the acquisition. Instruct the treasury to release fifty million dollars into a private trust immediately, and draft an emergency petition for sole custody of my two granddaughters, Lucy and Lily. I need you and a team of family court specialists at Rainier Memorial Hospital in thirty minutes."
"Understood," Arthur said, without a single second of hesitation or hesitation about the billions at stake. "We are en route."
Maxwell disconnected the call and turned back to Ms. Miller, whose face had drained of all color.
"Ms. Miller," Maxwell said smoothly, "you may remain in the building if you wish, but if you attempt to touch either of those children before my legal counsel arrives, I will personally fund a federal civil rights lawsuit against your department that will consume your career."
Ms. Miller swallowed hard, looking at the security guard, who subtly took half a step back, indicating he wanted no part of a war with an eight-billion-dollar titan.
"We... we will wait in the administrative lobby, Mr. Rothschild," she stammered, backing out of the room.
When the door clicked shut, the silence returned, thick and profound.
Maxwell turned back to the twins. Lucy was staring at him, her dark gray eyes analyzing him with intense scrutiny.
"You're rich," Lucy stated plainly.
"Yes," Maxwell admitted.
"Grandma said rich people are usually greedy."
"She was right," Maxwell said, his voice softening as he looked down at Elizabeth. "Most of us are. But I'm going to spend every penny I have to make sure you two never have to collect coins under a rainy awning ever again."
Lily peeked around Lucy’s shoulder. "Are you really our grandfather?"
Tears burned the backs of Maxwell’s eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn silver pocket watch—an heirloom his father had given him, engraved with the initials M.R.
"Your mother, Clara, had a silver necklace with a broken leaf charm," Maxwell said softly. "Elizabeth gave it to her. Am I right?"
May you like
Elizabeth nodded weakly from the bed. "She kept it until the day she died."
Lily took a timid step forward, looking at the silver watch in Maxwell’s hand. The ice had begun to melt.
