Later, when Jude reached for an appetizer, Helen gently stopped him.

“Oh sweetheart,” she said loudly enough for nearby guests to hear. “Those are foie gras and caviar. They might be a little advanced for you.”

Then she suggested the kitchen prepare something “simpler”—maybe spaghetti or fried chicken.

My son’s face fell.

I tried to stay calm. But things only got worse.

Ten minutes later, Willa came back from the restroom with red eyes. A group of girls had mocked her shoes, calling them “poor-people shoes.”

Before I could comfort her, Helen appeared again with the same pleasant smile.

“Children here are raised with certain standards,” she said softly. “Maybe next time you should prepare them better for this kind of environment.”

My hands began to tremble.

I stood up.

But before I could say anything, Maverick slowly rose beside me.

And the entire room suddenly went silent.

When Maverick stood, the atmosphere shifted immediately.

Anyone who didn’t know him might have missed it. My husband usually looked like the most harmless person in the room—soft-spoken, relaxed, wearing his old L.L. Bean jacket as if he had nothing to prove.

But I had seen that look in his eyes before.

Calm. Focused. Certain.

He helped Willa out of her chair, then Jude.

“We’re leaving,” I said quietly.

Helen smiled, clearly satisfied. “That’s probably for the best,” she replied loudly. “After all, this is my house.”

The words carried across the terrace.

My house.

I noticed Maverick’s lips twitch slightly—almost as if he found something amusing.

Then he pulled out his phone.

“Before we go,” he said calmly, “I need to speak with Reed for a moment.”

My brother hurried over, confused and embarrassed. Guests nearby pretended not to stare, though everyone was clearly listening.

“What’s going on?” Reed asked.

“It’s about the house,” Maverick said.

“The house?” Reed frowned.

“The lease,” Maverick clarified.

Reed looked even more confused. “What lease?”

Maverick turned his phone toward him.

“Do you remember the name of the company listed on your rental agreement?”

Reed hesitated. “Ironwood Holdings… I think.”

“Correct,” Maverick replied.

Then he pointed at the screen.

“Read this.”