The Baby Is A Prescott
The family court hearing room was tense and formal. Harper sat beside her lawyer, dressed in a modest beige dress, trying to look like a devoted mother. Across the table, Percy sat with his lawyer, calm but radiating cold fury.
The judge, a stern woman in her fifties, looked over the files.
“We’re here today regarding the temporary custody petition filed by Mr. Percy Ryde for his minor daughter, Katherine Ryde. Mr. Ryde, you may begin.”
Percy’s lawyer stood first and presented the case clearly and brutally.
“Your Honor, we have overwhelming evidence of maternal neglect. Video footage from nanny cams shows Mrs. Harper Ryde ignoring her daughter’s cries for hours while on her phone.
On the day of the incident, Kitty fell from the bed and sustained a head injury because her mother was listening to music with headphones instead of supervising her.
When confronted by her mother-in-law, Mrs. Ryde physically assaulted her. ”
Harper’s lawyer tried to interrupt. “Objection, Your Honor. This is exaggerated—”
“Overruled,” the judge said sharply.
Percy stood up next. The judge allowed him to speak directly.
He looked straight at Harper, his voice steady and cutting.
“Your Honor, Harper is not a bad person. She’s just a terrible mother.
She sees our daughter as an accessory, not a child who needs love and attention.
She has slapped my mother for daring to point out her neglect.
She has left Kitty with nannies for days while she goes out shopping or gossips with friends.
She has never once woken up for a night feeding. Not once.”
Harper’s face turned red with humiliation as Percy continued, his tone growing sharper.
“I have text messages where she told her friends she ‘regrets becoming a mother so young.’ I have credit card statements showing thousands of dollars spent on clothes and spa days while our daughter’s nursery still has unpacked boxes from when she was born.
She is more interested in drama and social media than raising our child. ”
He turned fully toward Harper, eyes cold.
“You gave birth to her, Harper, but you have never been her mother. And I will not let you continue treating my daughter like an inconvenience. I want full custody. You can have visitation once you prove you can put Kitty first for more than five minutes.”
The courtroom was dead silent.
Harper’s lawyer tried to salvage the situation, but Harper herself snapped.
“You’re making me sound like a monster!” she cried, voice shaking. “I carried her! She’s my daughter too!”
Percy didn’t raise his voice. He simply looked at her with pity and disgust.
“Giving birth doesn’t make you a mother, Harper. Showing up every single day does. And you have never shown up.”
The judge watched the exchange carefully, her expression unreadable.
Harper sat there, tears of rage and humiliation streaming down her face, completely humiliated in front of the court, her lawyer, and her own family members who had come to testify.
Percy sat back down, calm and resolute.
He had destroyed her in open court without even raising his voice.
×××××××
The three of them were in the living room after dinner. Alexander was resting on the couch, still recovering from his injuries, while Jesse sat in the armchair across from him. Emery stood near the window, hands resting on her bump, looking restless.
She turned to face them, gathering her courage.
“I’ve been thinking…” she began softly. “I want to come back to the company.”
Both men looked up at her at the same time.
Jesse’s brow furrowed immediately. “Emery, no.”
Alexander shook his head. “Absolutely not. You’re pregnant. You need to rest.”
Emery stepped closer, her voice calm but determined. “I’m not saying I want to go to the office every day. But I can’t just sit at home doing nothing. I feel useless. I worked before all of this, and I was good at it. I want to feel useful again.”
Jesse leaned forward, concern etched on his face. “You’re growing a baby. That’s more than enough. You don’t need to prove anything by working.”
“I’m not trying to prove anything,” Emery replied gently. “I just… I need something for myself. My mind is too active. I keep thinking about everything that’s happened, and it makes me anxious. Working, even a little, would help me feel normal.”
Alexander rubbed his temple, clearly tired. “Emery, the doctor said you should take it easy. Stress isn’t good for you or the baby right now.”
“I know,” she said, looking between them. “That’s why I’m not asking to go into the office full time. I can work from home. I can handle reports, review contracts, manage some client communications, all from here. I’ll rest when I need to. I promise.”
Jesse and Alexander exchanged a long look. Jesse looked especially reluctant, his protective instincts flaring.
Alexander sighed. “You’re really sure about this?”
Emery nodded, eyes sincere. “Yes. I need this. Please.”
There was a long pause.
Jesse ran a hand through his hair, clearly fighting himself. “If anything feels off, you stop immediately. No arguments.”
“And you work maximum four hours a day,” Alexander added. “No more. We’ll set up a proper workspace for you here.”
Emery’s face lit up with relief and gratitude. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Jesse still looked worried, but he gave her a small, soft smile. “We’re only agreeing because we know how stubborn you are. If we said no, you’d probably start working in secret anyway.”
Emery let out a quiet laugh. “Probably.”
Alexander leaned back, watching her with a mix of concern and reluctant acceptance. “We’ll have everything set up by tomorrow. But the moment you feel overwhelmed, you tell us.”
“I will,” she promised, placing a hand on her bump. “I just want to feel like I’m contributing something… even if it’s small.”
Jesse’s gaze lingered on her, full of quiet love and worry. “You’re already contributing the most important thing,” he said softly. “But if this makes you happy, then we’ll make it work.”
Emery smiled at both of them: one man her husband on paper, the other the father of her child.
For the first time in a while, she felt a small sense of control returning to her life.
×××××××
The nursery was slowly coming to life. Ivy stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, directing the two painters with clear enthusiasm. The walls were already prepped, and drop cloths covered the floor.
“So, the main walls will be this soft, warm gray,” Ivy said, pointing at the color swatch. “And that accent wall behind where the crib will go: a deep, elegant navy. Not too dark, but rich. Like midnight blue. Can you make sure it’s even? I want it perfect.”
The older painter nodded. “We’ve got it, miss. Two coats of gray, one feature wall in navy. Should be done by tomorrow evening.”
“Great! Thank you so much,” Ivy said with a bright smile as the painters packed up their equipment and left the room.
The moment they were gone, Harper stepped inside, arms crossed, her expression sour as she looked around the half-prepared nursery.
“Wow,” Harper sneered. “Look at you playing happy little auntie. Decorating a room for a bastard who probably doesn’t even belong to this family.”
Ivy’s smile vanished instantly. She turned slowly, eyes narrowing.
“Excuse me?”
Harper let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, come on. We all know it. Emery spreads her legs for whoever gives her attention and suddenly she’s pregnant right after marrying Alexander?
Please. That baby could belong to God knows who.
And here you are, wasting time and money painting walls for a little bastard. ”
Ivy took a step forward, her voice sharp and ice-cold.
“Shut your mouth, Harper.”
Harper raised an eyebrow, surprised by the venom. “What? Did I strike a nerve?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ivy said, stepping closer, her tone low but fierce.
“That baby is a Prescott. He is wanted. He is loved. And whether you like it or not, Emery is carrying him and doing everything she can to be a good mother despite how cruelly this family has treated her.”
Harper scoffed. “You’re really defending her?”
“Yes, I am,” Ivy shot back without hesitation.
“Because unlike you, I actually pay attention. Emery has been kind, patient, and strong even when you burned her hand, slapped her, and called her every disgusting name you could think of. She’s still here, still trying.
And that baby? He’s innocent. So if you can’t say anything decent, then get the hell out of this room and keep your poison to yourself. ”
Harper stared at her sister, momentarily stunned by the intensity.
Ivy wasn’t finished. Her voice dropped even lower. “And if I ever hear you call that baby a bastard again, I won’t be this polite. That child is going to be my nephew, and I will protect him and his mother from people like you.”
Harper’s face twisted with anger, but she seemed to realize she had pushed too far. She turned on her heel and stormed out without another word, slamming the door behind her.
Ivy stood alone in the half-painted nursery, breathing hard, her hands clenched at her sides.
She looked around at the bare walls and whispered to herself, “This room is going to be beautiful. And that little boy is going to be so loved.”
She picked up a paint swatch again, determination settling over her features.
No one was going to ruin this for Emery and the baby.
Not while she was around.
×××××××