Chapter 107 They Were Met by a Ghost

Chapter 107 They Were Met by a Ghost
The heavy doors of the Zenith town cars clicked shut, but the sound was completely swallowed by the sudden, heavy silence that fell over the pavement.
They stood together on the curb, a perfectly tailored, impenetrable wall of wealth, power, and absolute devotion. Leona had pulled her dark hair back into one long, thick braid that rested elegantly over her shoulder, the end secured tightly with a sleek, olive-green silk ribbon. Because there was no way a toddler’s short little legs could ever keep up with the long, determined strides of the adults, Leona had effortlessly scooped Olive right up onto her hip.
The little girl sat comfortably against her mother, completely oblivious to the gravity of the moment. Olive was a vision in her matching sweater dress, her tiny ballet slippers dangling over Leona’s arm, and those two perfect, tiny olive-green bows pinned neatly into her messy, curly pigtails.
But as they looked up the wide concrete steps leading into the family courthouse, they weren't met by a swarm of reporters or a mob of paparazzi.
They were met by a ghost.
Standing near the heavy brass doors, flanked by two older, hard-looking people who could only be her opportunistic parents, was Tiffany.
Leona’s breath caught in her throat, her grip instinctively tightening around Olive’s waist. The last time she had seen the girl was across a cold, sterile conference room table, watching Tiffany hastily sign her parental rights away so she could wash her hands of the responsibility and disappear. But the girl standing on the courthouse steps today was an even more hollowed-out shell of who she used to be.
Tiffany was incredibly thin, her skin pale and drawn, shifting her weight restlessly from foot to foot. She was clearly strung out, her eyes sunken and her hands trembling. Clinging tightly to her arm was a man who could only be the new boyfriend—he looked just as bad, his jaw ticking, eyes darting nervously around the imposing courthouse architecture.
It was immediately, painfully obvious what had happened. Tiffany’s parents hadn't just filed the lawsuit; they had tracked down their estranged, addicted daughter and dragged her here to use as a prop. They were parading her around to try and legitimize their claim, completely ignoring the tragic state she was actually in.
As the sea of olive green began to ascend the steps, Tiffany’s restless eyes suddenly locked onto them.
She saw the phalanx of billionaires and lawyers. She saw the custom lapel buttons proudly displaying a smiling, happy baby. And then, her hollow eyes landed squarely on Leona.
Tiffany looked at the beautiful, fiercely confident woman with the long braid and the olive ribbon. Then, her gaze shifted to the healthy, vibrant toddler resting safely on Leona's hip. Olive was happily patting Leona's shoulder, her little green hair bows bobbing cheerfully in the morning breeze.
A devastating, shattered look crossed Tiffany's face. The selfish bravado her parents were trying to project completely crumbled. Her lips trembled, and she took a tiny, hesitant step forward, pulling away from her boyfriend's grip.
"Leona," Tiffany whispered, her voice barely carrying over the city wind. It was a broken, fragile sound, laced with a world of regret. She looked at Leona, and then back down at Olive, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She looked exactly like she was trying to say, I'm sorry.
But before Tiffany could take another step, Owen moved.
He didn't yell. He didn't make a scene. Holding Hazel securely in her infant carrier with one hand, the Zenith CEO simply shifted his massive frame, stepping smoothly and cleanly in front of Leona and Olive. He completely blocked Tiffany's line of sight, turning himself into a physical, unyielding shield of tailored olive-green silk and absolute authority. He wrapped his free arm fiercely around Leona's waist, pulling her and the toddler tightly against his side.
Behind them, the rest of the family closed ranks without missing a single beat. Thomas and Diane stepped up on their left, while David, Ben, and Tate formed a wall on their right. They seamlessly swallowed Leona and the girls into the protective center of the pack.
Vance, who had been waiting for them at the top of the stairs with his leather briefcase, stepped directly into the path of Tiffany's parents. The high-powered lawyer didn't even blink at the tragic scene. He simply adjusted his glasses, his expression turning to pure, lethal ice.
"Do not approach my clients," Vance warned, his voice low and vibrating with legal threat. "If you so much as speak in their direction before we are inside that courtroom, I will have the bailiffs remove you from the premises immediately."
Tiffany's parents bristled, their greedy confidence faltering as they realized exactly what kind of unified, terrifying force they were actually up against. Tiffany just shrank back against her boyfriend, dropping her gaze to the concrete.
Owen looked down at Leona, his eyes softening only for her. "Don't look at them, Leo," he murmured gently, pressing a kiss to her temple right above Olive's head. "Keep walking. We've got this."
Leona leaned into his solid warmth, a profound, undeniable sense of peace washing over her. Seeing Tiffany like that was tragic, but it completely erased the last lingering shred of fear in Leona's heart. Olive wasn't just loved here; she was saved.
With her head held high and her daughter clutched safely to her chest, Leona walked through the heavy brass doors of the courthouse, completely surrounded by her family.
The heavy oak doors of the courtroom swung open, and the "Olive Green Army" filed inside. They filled the entire left side of the gallery, a breathtaking, unified sea of rich green silk, tailored suits, and custom lapel pins proudly displaying Olive's smiling face.
Leona and Owen took their seats at the heavy mahogany respondent's table beside Vance, while Diane sat directly behind them in the first pew, keeping a happy, babbling Olive on her lap and Hazel secure in her carrier.
From the very second the honorable Judge Reyes banged her gavel to call the hearing to order, it wasn't a trial. It was a complete, unmitigated legal slaughter.