Chapter 3 Legal Battles
The first envelope arrived two days later.
It was thick, cream-colored, and slid halfway under Lila’s front door as though it belonged there. No stamp. No return address. Just her name, typed neatly across the front.
Lila stood over it for a long moment before bending to pick it up.
Her instincts told her not to open it. That whatever waited inside would formalize the unease that had been stalking her since the café, since the call. Dread thrived on uncertainty—but paperwork had weight. It made fear real.
She carried the envelope into the kitchen and set it on the counter. Elliot sat at the small table eating cereal, humming to himself. The morning light spilled across the room, softening the sharp edges of everything it touched.
“Is that mail?” he asked, peering into his bowl.
“Yes,” she said. “Just boring grown-up stuff.”
He made a face. “Grown-up stuff is always boring.”
She smiled faintly and turned away so he wouldn’t see her hands shake as she slit the envelope open.
The letter inside was short. Clinical.
NOTICE OF PATERNITY CLAIM
REQUEST FOR DNA VERIFICATION
Her vision blurred.
A second sheet followed. Legal letterhead. A name she didn’t recognize, followed by an address that screamed money and influence.
Cassia Moore, Attorney at Law.
The words on the page swam together—deadlines, compliance, consequences. There was no threat in the language. It didn’t need one. The confidence was implicit, the assumption that resistance was merely a formality.
Lila folded the papers carefully, sliding them back into the envelope. She leaned against the counter and closed her eyes.
So this was how he chose to approach her.
Not with a call. Not with an apology or even anger.
Lawyers.
She looked at Elliot again, memorizing the curve of his cheek, the way he slurped his milk too loudly, the quiet joy of watching him exist without fear.
Her chest tightened.
“Mom?” he said, noticing her stare. “Did I spill something?”
“No,” she said quickly. “You’re fine.”
She forced herself to move, to function. Packed his bag. Walked him to school. Smiled at the teacher. Made small talk. All while the envelope sat heavy in her bag, like a warning she couldn’t escape.
When she returned home, she locked the door behind her and sank onto the couch.
She reread the letter.
Failure to comply may result in court-mandated testing and further legal action.
Lila let out a shaky breath.
“You don’t get to do this,” she whispered to the empty room.
Her phone buzzed.
This time, the number wasn’t blocked.
She stared at it for a long moment before answering.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Hart,” a woman’s voice said crisply. “This is Cassia Moore.”
Lila’s jaw tightened. “I know.”
“Good,” Cassia replied. “That will save us both time.”
There was something razor-sharp in her tone. Controlled. Efficient. The voice of someone who had never been told no.
“You received the notice,” Cassia continued.
“I did.”
“Excellent. We’d like to schedule the test as soon as possible.”
“I’m not agreeing to anything,” Lila said.
A pause. Then, faint amusement. “You misunderstand. This isn’t a negotiation.”
Lila’s anger flared. “You don’t get to threaten me.”
“I’m not threatening you,” Cassia said calmly. “I’m outlining outcomes.”
“Tell your client to stop.”
“I don’t give Mr. Blackmoor instructions,” Cassia replied. “I execute his interests.”
Lila closed her eyes. “You don’t know him.”
Another pause. Longer this time.
“I know him very well,” Cassia said. “And I suggest you prepare yourself. He intends to be involved.”
“Involved,” Lila echoed bitterly. “That’s a convenient word.”
“You hid a child from him,” Cassia said. The accusation was subtle but present. “Courts tend to frown on that.”
“I didn’t hide him,” Lila snapped. “I protected him.”
Cassia’s voice cooled. “That distinction will be debated.”
The line went dead.
Lila stared at her phone, heart pounding.
Adrian watched the city wake beneath him, espresso untouched on the counter.
“Any response?” he asked.
“Resistance,” Cassia replied from the chair opposite him. “As expected.”
Adrian nodded once. “Proceed.”
Cassia studied him. “You could soften the approach.”
“That would imply remorse,” Adrian said. “I’m not interested in implying anything.”
“What are you interested in?”
He turned toward her slowly. “Access.”
Cassia inclined her head. “And the optics?”
“I don’t care.”
“You should,” she said. “This will get messy.”
“Everything worth having does,” Adrian replied.
She gathered her files. “There’s another issue.”
Adrian’s gaze sharpened. “Go on.”
“The mother’s disappearance,” Cassia said. “There are signs it wasn’t voluntary.”
A flicker of something crossed his face.
“Explain.”
“There were financial suppressions,” she continued. “Someone made sure certain reports never reached you. Someone powerful.”
Adrian’s fingers curled against the glass.
“Find out who,” he said.
Cassia stood. “And if it was family?”
His jaw tightened. “Then they’ve made a very serious mistake.”
That evening, Lila sat at the kitchen table long after dinner, staring at the letter again.
Elliot was asleep. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.
She pulled out her laptop and typed Adrian Blackmoor’s name into the search bar.
Articles flooded the screen. Headlines. Analysis. Speculation. Photos of glass towers and men in suits.
Power radiated from every image.
She scrolled until her fingers ached.
There was no mention of scandal. No hint of children. No personal life at all.
Media ghost.
Untouchable.
She closed the laptop and pressed her palms to her eyes.
Five years ago, she had run because she believed distance would protect them both.
Now, distance meant nothing.
Her phone vibrated once more.
A new message. From the same unknown number.
It’s started.
You should run again.
Lila looked around the small apartment—the worn couch, the chipped mugs, the quiet safety she had built piece by piece.
Run where?
She typed back with shaking fingers.
I’m not running.
The reply came almost instantly.
Then you’d better learn how to fight.
Lila set the phone down and stared into the darkness, fear settling deep in her bones.
Some battles, it seemed, couldn’t be avoided.
And this one had just begun.