I returned home sooner than expected with a diamond necklace hidden inside my jacket, eager to surprise the woman who had stood beside me long before I possessed money, influence, or success.

I sat down at the head of the table, pulling Emily into the chair directly beside me. I gestured for my chief head of security, Vance—a broad-shouldered former military operative—to step forward.

"Vance," I ordered. "Lock the front gates. No one leaves this estate—not my mother, not my sister, not my brother—until my forensic audit team finishes reviewing the safe in the master study."

"Daniel, no!" Margaret shrieked, her aristocratic facade completely shattering into hysteria. "You can't keep us prisoner in our own home!"

"This isn't your home, Margaret," I reminded her coldly. "The deed to this property is entirely in my name and Emily’s name. You are guests who have overstayed your welcome by five years."

Michael stepped back, his eyes darting toward the side exit leading to the garage. "Daniel, come on... we're blood! Family helps family! So what if we spent a little extra money? You’re a billionaire! What’s a few million dollars to you?!"

"It’s not about the money, Michael," I said, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table. "It’s about the fact that while I was nearly dying of exhaustion in Tokyo, sleeping three hours a night to build a legacy, my wife was calling me on the phone crying, and you were standing over her telling her she was worthless."

Emily reached out, her small, rough hand wrapping around mine beneath the table. I squeezed it tightly, letting her feel the absolute protection of my grip.

"When I called home three months ago," I continued, looking directly at Ashley, "you answered Emily’s phone. You told me she was resting because she had a headache. Where was she really, Ashley?"

Ashley looked down at her polished fingernails, unable to meet my eyes. "She... she was cleaning the guest house..."

"She was locked in the basement utility room because she refused to give you her mother’s antique diamond ring," Emily whispered softly, her voice gaining a tiny spark of courage as she sat beside me.

The room went deathly silent.

I felt a cold, murderous heat erupt in my chest. I stood up slowly from my chair. "She was locked where?"

Emily looked up at me, tears glistening in her eyes. "Ashley took my phone three months ago, Daniel. They told me that if I complained to you, they would tell you I was losing my mind and spending your money recklessly. They said you were ashamed of me because I didn't fit into high society... they said you wanted a divorce."

"They lied to you," I choked out, a wave of profound sorrow washing over my anger. "Emily... I would burn this entire city to the ground before I ever let you go."

I looked at Vance. "Vance. Take their phones."

"What?!" Michael yelled. "You can't take our phones! That’s illegal!"

"Vance," I repeated. "Take their phones, their car keys, and their house keys. Escort my mother, my sister, and my brother to the secondary servant quarters in the East Wing. They will remain there until my legal team arrives at dawn."

Two security guards stepped forward, efficiently stripping my family of their luxury phones, designer keychains, and wallets despite their screams and curses. Margaret was weeping dramatically, Ashley was screaming threats about calling the press, and Michael was trying frantically to bargain.

"Daniel! You’ll rot in hell for this!" Margaret screamed as she was led down the hallway by two guards. "I am your mother!"

"A mother protects her son's happiness," I said as the heavy oak doors closed behind them, cutting off their screams. "You protected only your greed."