CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CLARA
Heather Stone's office was way bigger than I’d imagined during our first video call.
When Nash and I had spoken to her a couple weeks ago, I’d pictured a cute little nook that reflected the warm and friendly lawyer we’d chatted with that day.
Heather’s actual office revealed the complete truth about her.
She was a shark. The cute little nook I’d seen was actually part of a spacious, regal office that contained furniture imported from Greece and delicate sculptures whose price tags I could only guess at.
Everything was lush, beautiful, chic. Even the leather as I sat on her couch made a more pleasing noise than normal couches.
And despite all the luxurious décor, boxes of tissues dotted every surface.
She wasn’t just a good lawyer. She was a compassionate woman. And I was definitely going to need those tissues.
"Thanks again for taking this case on such short notice,” I said, enjoying the expensive crinkling of the leather couch.
“Of course. We’re going to get everything settled soon. Is Nash coming today?” she asked, leaning onto her elbows on her desk.
“No, we thought that it would be most appropriate for you and me hash out the final details.” I didn’t want to get into the peace offering aspect behind it, even though part of me wished he could be at my side even now, his steady power the reassuring presence I never could have planned on.
"Of course." Heather pulled out a pad of paper. “You know your ex best, after all. I wanted to go over a few things before the hearing next week. There have been some developments in the case."
My stomach flopped. "What kind of developments?"
"Preston's legal team has filed additional motions. They're requesting financial disclosures—bank statements, tax returns, things like that. As well as any contracts or agreements related to your marriage."
The room tilted slightly. "Um…that seems like a lot."
"Financial disclosures are standard in custody cases where there's been a significant change in financial circumstances.
" Heather's voice was matter-of-fact, like she was discussing the weather.
"Preston's argument hinges on the idea that you married Nash for personal gain and that Mia’s stability will be threatened.
They want to examine the financial relationship between you and your husband. "
"But that's—I mean, we're married. Isn't that private?"
"In the regular world, yes. But in custody cases, the court has broad latitude to examine anything that might affect the child's welfare. Including financial arrangements."
“Well, he’s my husband. And he’s wealthy. We can prove that.”
“Yes, that will be no problem to argue it’s in Mia’s favor. It’s the contract request that we need to clarify for the court.”
I could feel my heart rate speed up. “I don’t know what type of contract they’re after.”
“My first thought is a prenup. Did you guys sign anything like that?” Heather started making notes on the paper in front of her.
“No, no prenup.”
“Any other contract that you made outlining financial arrangements related to the marriage?” She scribbled a few more notes.
I licked my lips, suddenly parched. “No.”
She scribbled another note. “Is there any active NDA around the marriage that I should know about?”
The question hung in the air like a guillotine.
I could lie. Say no. Hope they never found it.
But Heather was watching me with the expression of someone who knew better.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because this will come up and we need to be prepared.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing a mile a minute. I was trying to analyze this from every possible angle but my brain was sputtering. “NDAs are…protected, I thought.”
She paused her scribbles, her gaze hardening. “So there is something.”
"There...might be something," I said finally.
Heather didn't look surprised. "Okay. Let’s hear it. You’re safe here."
I couldn’t find the words immediately. I wasn’t even sure I should acknowledge its existence, even to Heather.
But she was my lawyer. She was fighting for me.
If anywhere was safe, it was here. "It's—well…I feel like I can’t say.
But we did have an arrangement. When we got married.
There was a contract that outlined...terms." The words felt like shards of glass in my throat. "Expectations, so to speak."
"So it was a prenup?" Her brows arched.
"No. It wasn’t to protect his assets. More like.
.." I couldn't say it. Couldn't put words to what it actually was.
"It was so he could get an inheritance. The marriage was supposed to be temporary. Just through the end of the year. And in exchange, there was money involved. For me. But once we were married, we could prove it to the committee and then he’d get his grandfather's inheritance—"
"Okay, hang on." Heather held up a hand, laughing a little. "Hang on. I need to see this contract."
"But it's covered by an NDA. I don’t know if I should have even told you."
Heather’s expression changed to one I couldn’t immediately place, somewhere between regret and discomfort.
"In the state of New York, NDAs offer no protection in custodial cases.
" Her voice was gentle but firm. "Preston's team is already demanding financial records or marriage arrangements.
So you're legally required to turn over everything.
Including contracts protected by NDAs. The court has the right to examine any agreements that might affect the child's welfare. "
My vision blurred. "But it’s—I can’t—”
“The court can order a disclosure even if it violates an NDA if the information is required for a legal proceeding.” She grimaced, interlacing her fingers on the desk. Even as she delivered this awful news, I still felt somehow held by her. I reached for a tissue, feeling the tears coming on.
“But how did they know to even ask?”
“I can’t answer that. But the request is here.”
I felt suddenly helpless. “So they'd find it anyway."
"Yes. Preston's lawyers are good. I have personal experience with them,” she said with a grimace. “If we’re not prepared, they’ll use it in their favor. I can assure you that.”
The tears were coming now, despite my best efforts to keep them back. God damnit, I wished Nash was here. I dabbed at my cheek.
Heather leaned forward. "That’s why we need to get ahead of this. We can't let Preston's team discover it and weaponize it."
"How?"
"We submit it ourselves. As evidence. We frame it as yes, there was an initial arrangement, but it was in Mia’s favor. You're not hiding anything. You're being transparent with the court."
I stared at her. “So we just...hand it over?"
Heather's expression was sympathetic but unyielding. "Either we submit it now, on our terms, with context and explanation. Or Preston's team finds it, presents it as proof of instability in Mia’s living environment, and uses it to destroy your credibility. Those are the options."
My entire world went wobbly. I dabbed at the corners of my eyes, silently crying.
"But Nash's inheritance—" My voice broke. "If anyone finds out that it was arranged, he doesn't get the inheritance. He needs that money."
"I understand. But Clara, in this custodial case, we can’t cut any corners. Not if you want to win."
Her words pierced me like a knife to the chest.
There was no question. There had never been a question. But Nash...God, what about Nash? He needed that money. For the Gideon lawsuit against the city. For fighting Cross. For protecting the Queens community. For everything. That had been the whole point of this.
And this revelation could destroy it.
But I would not risk losing Mia.
"No, you’re right," I whispered, more to convince myself than Heather. "I don’t want to cut any corners.”
"The more prepared we are, the better.” Heather offered a small smile, then sat back in her chair. “Do you have the contract with you? Can you send it?”
“Yes, of course." I pulled out my phone with shaking hands. "I’ll find it right now."
I bumbled through my phone, pulling up all the wrong apps first in my flustered state. I could barely operate the damn thing. Finally, I found the file. The contract that had started everything in that bathroom at Black & Brewtiful. The document that had seemed so simple, so transactional, so easy.
“I just want to add,” I said as I hit send, “that the contract started as an arrangement, but it’s not that way anymore. Does that matter? Nash and I—we’re in love.”
The words floated bulkily in the air. Did I really know that? I knew that I loved him—but what would Nash say if he were here at my side? My words felt like a desperate bid to convince her, and by extension, the court. I felt love from him, but was it real?
“I’m sure you are.” The slight smile on her face looked plasticized, like maybe she’d heard these words from another desperate woman before. “But the court needs to review all the components. We need to be fully prepared.”
I nodded, swallowing hard, reaching for another tissue. “Of course.”
Heather tapped on her computer for a few moments, then nodded.
"Got it. I'll review and include it with our submission to the judge.
We'll frame it carefully—emphasize that while the marriage began as an arrangement, it evolved into a genuine partnership.
That you and Nash are building a real life together. "
I nodded, drawing another deep breath. “And this…will it get out? I mean—who else is going to see it?”
“Preston’s team will see it.” There was a grave note in her voice. “And that reminds me, they submitted something recently that you should know about.” She clicked through a few things on her computer, each second dragging by like an hour.
“I can’t even imagine what it is.”
“It’s a photo.” She frowned at her computer screen, then angled it toward me. “I’m going to try to get it tossed from evidence though.”