Emma Reynolds did not ask the millionaire for money. She stood beside his table with a baby tied to her chest and whispered, “Sir, when you’re finished,

Richard Vance stepped forward, his eyes narrowing into slits. "You don't know what you're jumping into, Parker. That baby isn't just a orphan. He's the sole heir to the Sterling Maritime Estate. His mother hid him before she died, and that little girl stole the boy's custody records. If I don't bring them back to the Sterling trustees by midnight, my clients lose control of forty percent of the docks."

The entire restaurant was watching now. The silence was absolute.

William’s eyes narrowed. The Sterling family had been locked in a massive inheritance battle ever since the sudden, mysterious death of billionaire Arthur Sterling four months ago. If Noah was Arthur Sterling's illegitimate son, he wasn't just a child—he was a target worth hundreds of millions of dollars.

"Manager," William said calmly without taking his eyes off Vance. "Call the police. Tell them a man is attempting an unlawful abduction inside your establishment."

Vance chuckled coldly, taking a step back toward the exit. "You think the cops care about a runaway, Parker? Go ahead. Call them. By the time they check my guardianship papers, my guys will have a warrant for your arrest for harboring a kidnapped infant."

Vance glared at Emma over William's shoulder. "I'll see you in court tomorrow morning, little girl. Enjoy your dinner."

He turned on his heel and walked out into the pouring rain, pulling a phone to his ear as the heavy glass doors swung shut behind him.

William turned around immediately. Emma was trembling violently, tears streaming silently down her windburned cheeks.

"He's going to take him," she sobbed, clutching the baby. "He killed my mother, Mr. Parker. They said it was a car accident, but it wasn't! My mom was Arthur Sterling's personal nurse. She hid Noah with me before the car went into the river!"

William felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach. The threat wasn't just corporate—it was lethal.

"Get your coat," William said, pulling his phone from his pocket and hitting speed dial.