That night, Solomon packed a bag and left to sleep at his mother’s house.
Ten minutes later, a text arrived on my phone from an unknown number—Jennifer:
“Solomon told me that after the divorce settlement, half of this property would legally belong to him.”
The following morning, an attorney reviewed the property deeds: the house was held exclusively under my father’s private trust. Solomon could attempt to claim reimbursement for minor maintenance receipts, but he had zero legal claim to the title.
I assumed that would be the end of his arrogant threats.
I was dead wrong.
Two days later, a formal settlement proposal arrived from Solomon’s divorce attorney.
He offered to drop all financial claims regarding the house… provided that he was granted full primary custody of Theo.
Furthermore, he requested half of my personal savings, the luxury SUV, and a massive lump-sum payout for alleged “property improvements.”
I called him directly, my voice shaking with cold rage. “Are you seriously offering to trade my father’s house in exchange for full custody of our son?”
“I’m looking for a fair resolution, Natalie,” Solomon replied smoothly over the line.
“Theo is not a piece of furniture you can use as leverage!”
“You work sixty hours a week, Natalie. My mother can raise him full-time.”
“The exact same mother who taught him to lie to cover up your affair?”
Solomon hung up the phone.
My attorney took the document, placed it in a red litigation folder, and looked at me. “Save every text, every email, and every voicemail. If he wants to use his five-year-old son as a bargaining chip in court, we are going to let his own words ruin him.”
PART 3
Over the following week, Solomon’s messages grew increasingly hostile and unhinged.
“You’re keeping my son away from me.”
“Your rich father has always pulled the strings in your life.”
“When we stand in front of a family court judge, we’ll see who actually has the time to be a real parent.”
I never took the bait. Every time Solomon requested visitation, I responded with precise, reasonable, and documented hours.
“Saturday from 10:00 A.M. to 5:00 P.M.”
“Tuesday afternoon drop-off at kindergarten.”
“If you want to take him to the park on Sunday morning, that is fine.”
I had zero intention of severing the bond between father and son. What I was fiercely determined to prevent was Theo ever being used as an alibi, a messenger, or a pawn again.
