Chapter 2 - The Tactical Advantage
Warren’s laugh died in his throat when I didn't blink.
I didn't yell. I didn't slam my fists on the furniture. Instead, I pulled my phone from my pocket, unlocked the screen with a swipe of my thumb, and tapped the speed dial.
Celeste’s eyes flicked to the screen. "Who are you calling? The police? This is a civil dispute over domestic housing, they won't do a damn thing—"
"I'm not calling the police, Celeste," I interrupted, bringing the phone to my ear as the connection beeped. "I'm calling Captain Miller at Fort Liberty Military Police detachment. There’s an ongoing investigation into identity fraud involving Ethan’s recent attempt to pull my deployment financial power of attorney without my consent. Since Warren here is an officer of the court and an accessory to mail tampering, Miller will have a squad car at my driveway before you can finish packing your briefcase."
The color drained instantly from Warren’s face. The silver pen slipped from his fingers, clattering against the glass table and rolling onto the rug.
"You're bluffing," Warren said, though his voice hitched on the last syllable.
"Try me," I whispered into the phone as the line picked up. "Miller? This is Major Bennett. I need a fraud detail dispatched to Willow Ash Drive immediately. We have unauthorized civilian intrusion into a service member’s primary domicile, accompanied by forged document review..."
Before I could finish the fake report, Warren sprang out of my armchair with surprising speed for a man who spent his life behind a mahogany desk.
"Wait, wait, hang up!" Warren barked, his corporate veneer cracking down the center to reveal the panicked coward underneath. "There’s no need to involve military investigators over a simple misunderstanding. Celeste, gather the folders."
Celeste scrambled off the sofa, her hands shaking as she began scooping up the legal forms, bank statements, and property deeds, shoving them haphazardly into a leather portfolio.
I kept the phone to my ear, staring Warren down until he backed away toward the foyer.
"Get out," I said quietly.
"This isn't over, Maya," Warren hissed, his face twisted into an ugly mask of impotent rage as he hurried toward the front door. "Ethan is still your sister's legal husband. He has rights to this family, whether you want to acknowledge it or not!"
"If Ethan comes within five hundred feet of my house again," I replied, "I won't call the military police. I'll handle him myself."
Celeste scuttled past me, shooting a venomous glare at Olivia, who was still huddled on the kitchen floor. Warren wrenched the front door open, slammed it behind them so hard the picture frames on the wall rattled, and stomped down the porch steps.
Through the front window, I watched them dive into the charcoal-gray Lincoln and peel out of the driveway, spitting gravel into the street.
The house fell dead silent again.
I lowered my phone, ended the call—which had gone to voicemail anyway—and let out a long, ragged breath that felt like hot glass in my lungs.
Slowly, I turned around.
Olivia was still sitting on the kitchen floor, her shoulders shaking as she pulled her knees tighter to her chest.
"Maya..." she sobbed quietly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want them here. They just... they showed up while I was nursing Miles. They said if I didn't sign the quitclaim giving Ethan the house equity, they'd file for emergency custody of the baby and claim I was an unfit mother because I was living on your charity."
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My blood ran cold.
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