Chapter 6 - The Battle for Maya

Twenty minutes later, the elevator doors in Alexander’s penthouse opened with a sharp chime.
Three people stepped out into the foyer: a stern-faced senior social worker named Mrs. Gable, two uniformed police officers, and right behind them, smiling maliciously, was Evelyn Vance’s husband, Arthur Vance.
Arthur was a heavy-set man in his late fifties with thinning hair and an arrogant demeanor. He believed his political connections made him untouchable.
"Alexander," Arthur sneered, stepping forward. "You've gone too far this time. You embarrassed my wife, ruined a charitable foundation, and now you're holding an unregistered street orphan illegally. Hand the girl over to Mrs. Gable."
Mrs. Gable held up a clipboard. "Mr. Vance, under city regulation 402, an unidentified minor found in a public space must be placed in emergency state custody immediately for processing. You have no legal authority to keep her here."
Alexander stood in the center of his living room, flanked by two of his personal security detail. He didn't flinch. He looked at Arthur Vance with supreme contempt.
"You brought police officers to my home at eleven o'clock at night for a four-year-old child," Alexander said softly. "Not because you care about her welfare, Arthur. But because my cancellation of your supply contract is going to bankrupt your firm by Friday, and you think this gives you leverage."
Arthur’s face flushed red. "She belongs in a state facility until a proper home is found! You can't just buy a child, Vance!"
At that moment, the elevator chimed again.
Jonathan, Alexander’s chief legal counsel, stepped out, holding a thick leather folder and a tablet displaying an active video conference.
"I apologize for the delay," Jonathan said calmly, adjusting his glasses. "Traffic was mild."
He walked straight up to Mrs. Gable and handed her a document bearing a golden seal and a digital signature from the chief judge of the state supreme court.
"This is an Emergency Protective Custody and Temporary Guardianship order," Jonathan announced loudly so the police officers could hear clearly. "It grants Alexander Vance full, immediate legal guardianship of Maya Lin, pending a permanent adoption hearing. Furthermore, Judge Miller has issued a restraining order against Mr. Arthur Vance and Mrs. Evelyn Vance, barring them from coming within five hundred yards of the child or Mr. Vance."
Mrs. Gable looked at the document, her jaw dropping slightly. "This... this was signed ten minutes ago."
"Judge Miller takes a very personal interest in cases involving child neglect and corporate harassment," Jonathan replied smoothly. "And he was particularly disturbed by video footage from the gala."
Jonathan pulled out his phone and pressed play. A clear, high-definition video played—captured by one of the gala's own promotional videographers. It showed Evelyn Vance slapping Maya’s small hand away, calling her a "stray street animal," and attempting to drag her across the gravel.
"If this video hits the evening news," Jonathan added, looking directly at Arthur, "your wife will be facing misdemeanor assault charges against a minor before breakfast. I suggest you take your officers and leave Mr. Vance’s home immediately."
The two police officers looked at each other, then at Arthur Vance.
"Sir," one officer said to Arthur, stepping back. "We're done here. Let's go."
Arthur’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He stared at Alexander, his eyes filled with hatred, but he realized he was completely outmatched. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed back into the elevator, followed by the silent social worker and the officers.
As the elevator doors closed, silence returned to the penthouse.
Alexander let out a slow breath, turning to Jonathan. "Good work."
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"It's only temporary, Alex," Jonathan warned gently. "The full adoption process will take months. They will dig into your background, your work hours, your lifestyle. They will ask if a single twenty-eight-year-old billionaire who works eighty hours a week is fit to raise a daughter."
Alexander looked toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. "Then I guess I'm going to start working fewer hours."