"What?" Lawson sputtered.

"You heard me," Catherine replied. "I want you to move out immediately."

​​

"You can't do this," Melanie shrieked. "This is our home."

"Actually, I think it's Maria's home now," Catherine replied. "Mr. Foster, I've changed my mind. I don't want the conservatorship—I want to transfer my ownership of the house completely. Can you draw up some paperwork to change the deed to Maria's name?"

"Of course," Clark replied. "And the remaining houses?"

"One for Samuel and one for me," Catherine said. "That seems like the fairest way to do it. Of course, Samuel can't take possession of his yet, but we can take care of it for him."

"But how do we choose who gets which house?" Maria asked with a worried crease on her forehead.

"Easy," Catherine said. "I'll take the country house in the North. I already have the shares in the company, so I don't need much else."

Susan frowned, "Are you sure? The house is gorgeous, but it's a wreck—and so isolated."

"It's not a problem," Catherine said. "I have my home with Sean—I don't need a house the way you and Samuel do."

"Okay," Maria said, tears shining in her eyes. "But I want you to know that this will always be your home, too—no matter what, our doors are open to you."

Catherine smiled softly at her, stepmother, "Thanks, that means a lot."

Clark cleared his throat and said, "Though the houses are to be divided evenly, the late Mr. Stewart' wishes were clear with regards to the shares of the company. Those belong exclusively to Catherine. Does anyone contest that?"

Maria shook her head, "If those were my husband's wishes, I respect them. I don't want anything to do with the company—I wouldn't know what to do with it."

"When you come of age, Samuel, you can come to join me at the company," Catherine said. "If you want to, that is."

Samuel smiled shyly back at her. His eyes were still watery and red-rimmed, but he stood with more confidence. His awkward teenage slouch had disappeared, and he met her gaze with ease.

"Now, as for the business of the money," Clark said. "Are you sure you don't want to press charges against Lawson Stewart?"

"I did it to help the company," Lawson shouted. "You've already proven yourself an ungrateful brat, but you can't blame me for this.

Catherine sneered, "You're telling me that you reinvested over one hundred million pounds into the company, and yet, somehow, there's no record of this? How stupid do you think I am?"

Clark cleared his throat and asked, "Does this mean you do want to press charges?"

Catherine's heart pounded furiously in her chest. She hadn't planned to press charges against the Stewarts—she wanted them out of her life as quickly as possible—but the desire for revenge seized her. She imagined facing them in court and looking at their faces as the judge handed down their sentences.

"You wouldn't dare," Melanie hissed. "After all we've done for you, after the money I gave you on my card. I could press charges against you for taking the card from me—I could claim it was stolen."

"That money was nothing compared to what you took from me," Catherine said. "All my life you've taken from me, and you've never felt a single consequence. Well, that changes now, I'm going to—"

Maria's gentle hand clasped her shoulder, and Catherine froze in surprise. She hadn't realized she was shouting until she fell silent. She looked at Maria's gentle eyes and felt some of the rage dissolve.

"They're not worth your anger, Cathy," Maria said. "Even if you take them to court, the money won't come back—it's gone. Don't lose out on the future by dwelling on the past."

"How can you be so calm about it?" she asked. "Especially after what they did to you and Samuel?"

"We've indeed suffered," Maria said. "But I want to put that all behind me. It's not healthy to hold onto so much anger, and I refuse to let bitterness make me like them."

Catherine took a deep breath. She wanted to be like Maria, but she wasn't sure she could be so forgiving. Maria had only suffered for a few years, but Catherine had tolerated it for ten before her rebirth. She chewed her lip—trying to make a decision.

"I want to press charges," she said.

Melanie gasped, "How can you do this to us? You're going to ruin our lives, and for what? You're married to Sean Blair—what could you possibly need?"

"To begin with, your lives aren't worth much," Catherine said. "What is there to ruin? Your shopping habit? Your relationship with the local auction houses and art dealers?"

The doors to the living room swung open, and Madison entered. Her hair was tousled and tangled from sleep, but her eyes flashed with anger—it was apparent that she'd been listening at the door for a while.

"You ungrateful scheming bitch," Madison shouted, stalking across the room. "My family was nothing but generous to you. My mother bought you everything you wanted and let you do whatever you wanted, and this is how you repay her?"

"Oh yes," Catherine said dryly. "It was so thoughtful of her to spend my own money for me. And I appreciate her letting me smoke and make all kinds of bad decisions—it was ever so generous of her."

She turned to Clark, "The Stewarts stole millions from me, but I know it's pointless to try to get it all back, so I'm only pressing charges for fifty million pounds."

"F-fifty million?" Lawson stammered. He looked paler than before, and sweat dripped down his face. "That's impossible, that's—that's a robbery!"

"Oh, really, you're going to talk to me about the robbery, Uncle?" Catherine asked.

"Wait," Melanie pleaded. "If this goes to court, the papers will have a field day. The family will be ruined forever. Give us some time to get the money, and let's settle this out of court."

"Why should I trust you?" Catherine asked.

"Please," Lawson pleaded. "Just give me time."

Catherine sighed, "Fine, you have two weeks."

"Two weeks?" Lawson asked.

His beady eyes bulged unnaturally with his mouth gaped open. The color drained from his face, and then his eyes rolled back into his head. His knees buckled, and then he sank onto the floor in a dead faint.

"Lawson," Melanie shrieked.

"Dad," Madison screamed.

"Call an ambulance," Catherine shouted at Maria. "Dr. Jordan, look at him."

Carl jumped to his feet and rushed across the room to Lawson's crumpled figure. Dropping onto his knees, he checked Lawson's pulse and monitored his breathing.

"Catherine, you bitch," Madison shrieked, charging across the room.

Madison's eyes flashed madly, and she raised her hand to smack Catherine. Before she could get within three feet of her, Geoffrey jumped in front of Catherine and pushed Madison away. Madison stumbled backward, waving her hands wildly as she went, staggering to the side and hitting the floor hard—slamming her temple on the coffee table as she fell. She winced in pain and raised her hand to her temple—checking for blood.

"That's it," she hissed. "You came into our home and attacked my dad and then me. You're going down."

"It's my house," Catherine said with a shrug. "Or didn't you hear that part of the conversation?"

Madison blinked rapidly in shock and confusion, "What?"

"That's right," Catherine said. "The house is mine—well, Maria's and Samuel's too—and I want you out today."