Chapter 3
Leonard was not my uncle in the affectionate sense.
He was my father’s younger brother.
Sixty-four.
Elegant.
Patient.
The kind of man who never raised his voice because he preferred rooms where everyone had already been taught to listen.
He had served as my father’s adviser for twenty-two years.
When I took over, he remained for six months.
Then left.
He said younger leadership needed space.
I thought that was maturity.
Apparently it was positioning.
I returned to the nursery.
Celina sat on the padded bed.
Gareth stood beneath guard.
I placed the phone on the low shelf between us.
“What did Leonard promise you?”
Celina said nothing.
Gareth laughed.
“Here we go.”
I looked at him.
“Your sister has spent weeks teaching my son that his dead mother left because of him.”
His smile vanished.
“She has used my voice to tell him I don’t want him.”
Silence.
“And tomorrow somebody planned to move him to Grayhaven.”
I stepped closer.
“So yes.”
My voice lowered.
“Here we go.”
Celina finally spoke.
“It was temporary.”
There was that word.
“What happens at Grayhaven?”
“He stays with family.”
“Which family?”
She swallowed.
“Leonard.”
“And?”
“Staff.”
“Without me?”
“For a little while.”
“Why?”
Her eyes filled.
“Because you won’t make the decision yourself.”
I stared.
“What decision?”
She looked at my late wife’s photograph on the wall.
Then at me.
“Milo can’t stay your heir.”
There.
Finally.
Not childcare.
Succession.
I almost laughed.
“He is four.”
“That’s the point.”
Celina stood.
“You’re shaping the entire family around him.”
“I’m raising my son.”
“You’re changing policies because you want a safer world for him.”
“Yes.”
Her expression sharpened.
“Exactly.”
To Celina, fatherhood had contaminated leadership.
I looked at Gareth.
“And Leonard?”
He answered this time.
“He thinks Ashford needs separation between blood succession and emotional attachment.”
Meaning?
Milo should be raised elsewhere.
Trained separately.
Then brought back when older.
A proper Ashford heir.
Without the father “softening” him.
My hands tightened.
Then Celina whispered:
“There was another option.”
I looked at her.
“If Milo refused you himself…”
My stomach dropped.
“…the family could name another future branch.”
I understood.
May you like
They were not only removing Milo.
They were trying to make him reject me first.
