A/N: Happy new year to all my peeps. It's been awhile and I thank you for your patience as I am both creatively and emotionally spent. I know the gaps of time grow long between chapters, but I'm still working on this, I promise.

I have a mockup of the exact contract Weiss signs as well as some other "recovered" documents relevant to the story such as medical reports in SDC employee files, speeches written for Jacques' press conference, and internal SDC memos. If those are things you'd like, let me know and I'll publish them as well. They're not story critical, only story relevant so let me know if you want me to type them out and post them between longer chapters.

Thank you so much for sticking with me and I hope this chapter was worth the wait.

He may have verbally agreed to all of their terms, but Weiss remained on high alert. This was too easy and Jacques was caving too soon.

Four possibilities formed in her mind; all equally feasible

1. He planned to trick them somehow through the paperwork: loopholes, word games, fine print…something that he could appeal to on a technicality. If he could get her signature on something, he could later insist that she, as a competent adult outside her conservatorship should be held to that agreement.

2. He was involved in something even more sinister that fighting this arrangement would uncover and it was best to cut his losses.

3. He had an ace up his sleeve neither she nor Adam had anticipated and was waiting for dramatic time to reveal.

4. He was blowing smoke to buy himself time.

Her best guess was that he had something he thought would stop Lisa Lavender. The most pressing threat was his criminal activity making it to the public and if he was feigning defeat, he must believe he could stop it somehow from getting out.

She was abruptly brought back to the present when she noticed Adam staring at her intently, trying to catch her attention. His eyes flicked down to her scroll and back up to her. She looked and saw she had a message from him.

You want to finish that tour while your father and his lawyer talk it out?

Weiss texted back.

I don't really want to leave him alone. If he tries anything, I want to see.

Adam looked at his scroll and frowned, thinking a moment before replying

I think we both need to get out of here and clear our heads. If we sit here, it'll just get you all worked up. If we get up, stretch our legs and talk, we can come back to the table focused.

He was mildly insisting. She decided to indulge him, giving him a nod first in acknowledgement then standing and stretching.

"I'm going to finish showing Adam the property. You can send a servant to find us when your lawyer arrives," she said to her father as he sat behind his desk, furiously typing emails and receiving texts. He barely acknowledged her or Adam as they took their leave.

Once they were out in the main entrance, Adam decided to put his eye patch back on.

"You said this included a tour of the gardens?" he asked.

"We can go outside," Weiss said.

As they walked past the clearing just outside the veranda where they'd eaten their brunch, Adam put his arm around her waist. "Are there cameras here? Can your father see us out here? Or hear what we're talking about?" he asked as he planted a kiss on her forehead.

"If he does, he's never told us," Weiss replied. "Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure Arthur Watts is here and if I'm right, Salem might already know what we're up to." He remained calm as he spoke, following her lead through the terraced garden.

Weiss also tried to maintain her composure but the initial alarm on her face gave away her shock. "Watts? He's here? In the house?"

"I caught a glimpse of your father's monitor and it had the W in the corner. I'd seen Cinder Fall use his hacking software before when she was infiltrating Beacon. He may not be physically on the property, but at least close by and in communication with your father. It would explain how Jacques knew my name."

"I can figure out if he's staying in the manor. If not, we need to find out exactly where he is to report to Ironwood."

Adam's brow furrowed as he thought about it. "We can report what we know to Ironwood: that your father and Watts are in league, but we can't jeopardize the task at hand. If an opportunity presents itself, we can seize it but we can't afford detours. At least not until you're out of your conservatorship."

Weiss exhaled sharply. She hated that he was right but also frustrated at the thought of losing a chance to capture one of the men who staged the attack on Beacon. For now, her father posed the greater threat. "Is there any direct danger to us from Watts?"

"I don't think he'd blow my cover, but that is a possibility that your father may have arrangements with him to leak my identity to the press. They might also be foolish enough to try and take the flash drive from us by force knowing Watts would be able to get into it. I honestly don't think either of them would be that stupid, but if they have some notion that they can get the drop on us while we're sleeping or try to separate us…I don't have my semblance or my sword. I can't pretend it's possible for them to overwhelm me if they knew they'd have the advantage."

Weiss nodded understanding.

They continued walking through the varying terraces of cultivated hedges and flowers until they reached the veranda once more. No servant was waiting for them, meaning the lawyer was still on his way.

"The upper south wing is mostly bedrooms. I can show you the study and the gallery and then…I guess we can unpack our things for tomorrow and relax a little bit before the lawyer gets here?" Weiss offered unsure.

"There's not much else we can do besides wait," Adam agreed.

She led him up the grand staircase again and turning right, led him to the family gallery.

The first door on the left was an art gallery. The small room sported framed canvasses in varying sizes, mostly of cityscapes or landscapes. Weiss never tired of looking at these. The few family portraits of Nicholas Schnee and his family as well as Willow and hers were the ones she could do without.

"I'm surprised," Adam broke the silence. "When you said gallery, I was expecting an endless hallway of white haired, blue eyed austere portraits of Schnees gone by."

"We were an old family, but we weren't a rich one until my grandfather came along," Weiss said. "There's only three generations of portraits here, though my father had commissioned enough of just Whitley to suffice our family for generations." It was then that a new painting caught her eye. A paved road leading to a series of towers above a green landscape, against the golden hues of daybreak chasing away the dark blues of night. It was the painting of Beacon Academy: the one that had been up for auction the night of the benefit over a year ago. She had admired it then, but in an instant, she almost fell in love. Obviously, this was going to be some kind of tax write-off for Jacques, but it was a final vestige of what Beacon was before Salem and her minions had destroyed it. She stood for a moment, admiring it and letting the fond memories of school bring a smile to her lips.

The next room was the study. It functioned more as a library and public study space as Jacque used his private office as his study and Willow had no study of her own. Identical barrister bookshelves revealed rows of books behind glass with a matching table and padded chairs in the middle of the room.

"I remember this room," Adam said, looking judgmentally at the vaulted ceilings. "I got in through that duct there. Easy to get in, impossible to get back out." They exchanged a look, silently acknowledging how awkward it was that they were discussing the night they met, which was also the night Adam had kidnapped her.

"Why don't we just wait in our room until one of the servants calls us down?" Weiss asked, abruptly changing the subject as a mercy to them both. He followed her to the door, letting her lead the way into her room.

Everything was the same as when she had left it. The drapes were the same, but had recently been washed and pressed. The carpet had been shampooed and the room had been maintained with dusting, window cleaning, and general maintenance. Something about it seemed surreal to Weiss. This didn't feel like coming back to her childhood. The way the bed was made was never how she wanted it tucked into the mattress at the foot and the pillows arranged in a perfectly symmetrical pattern. It looked like a hotel had taken her bedroom as inspiration for the wallpaper and linen set and tried to imitate it in the most formal, impersonal matter. The servants had gone to the trouble of unpacking their toiletries to lay them out on the bathroom counter and had even taken their nightclothes and laid them out on the bed.

"Is that normal?" Adam asked, clearly uncomfortable someone else had be casually digging through his bags to find his lounge clothes.

"It's a rich people thing," Weiss explained. "It's supposed to be a courtesy, but we all know it's just another power play. The servants use it as an opportunity to look through guests' luggage for anything dangerous…or useful."

Adam lifted his bag onto the bed. "You father and the general are more alike than either would care to admit, it seems." As he opened the main flap, he spotted subtle differences in the arrangement of his belongings: a zipper he had left partially unzipped had been zipped back all the way, the shoes placed too close together and side pockets that had been unused and completely flat now bulged slightly as if someone had stuck their fingers inside to look for items but had not smoothed them back down. Nothing was missing however, and even Jacques wouldn't be foolish enough to think they'd leave there leverage where some servant could get their hands on it.

Weiss used the opportunity to give Myrtenaster a cleaning. To her immense satisfaction, she found the hope chest at the foot of her bed still contained all the supplies and accessories she used for the upkeep of her blade. Adam replaced her bag and contented himself to sit on the bed and watch her as she applied a medium weight oil, and used the designated cloth to wipe it down, carefully inspecting it for rust or loose screws as she worked from the handle to hilt and then from hilt to blade. From the perspective of an outsider, it hadn't been dirty before, but with the smallest effort, it went from shining silver to an almost mirrored brilliance. She admired it when she was done, but then got a puzzled look on her face.

"How did you get this?" she asked, looking up at Adam.

"I sent the lieutenant to get it."

"I understand that but how did he get it?"

"He got in the same way I got in," Adam said, "Except he had the benefit of knowing about the vaulted ceiling beforehand and left himself a rope to get back out the same way he came in."

"That was a risk," Weiss said as she thought about it, "My father could easily have changed security measures around that vent and made it impossible to get in either from the exterior or the interior. It's a miracle he didn't and just kept the silent alarm." She thought for a moment. "Although, if he had security come out and change anything it would have left evidence that I had been taken and not that I had left on my own. I guess he could have waited a few months, but it still would have aroused suspicion that a silent alarm got tripped the day I allegedly 'ran away'." She sighed as she began putting the cleaning supplies away, packing then with her belongings rather than the hope chest. "It's exhausting trying to out maneuver my father at every turn."

"He's cornered now," Adam said, "And if I know anything about rats, he'll either try one last attempt to escape, or he'll turn feral. Either way, we'll be ready for him."

Weiss leaned in to kiss him again, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door. A servant entered and curtsied.

"Begging your pardon, but Mr. Schnee wishes to see you both in the conference room. Mr. Dolion is here." She remained in the doorway, indicating she was to escort them directly to ensure they came immediately.

Adam quietly squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. This was it.

The conference was smaller than the study and occupied almost entirely by a table surrounded by 20 comfortable office chairs. Polished wood pannels, the windows facing the front lawn of the home and all its splendor reminded its occupants that you were in the Schnee's home doing the Schnee's business. As Weiss and Adam entered, a short, portly man seated opposite of the head of the table stood and walked around to greet them. Jacques, seated at the table's head remained seated, refusing to make eye contact.

He was small and tidy man in a tailored navy suit. Androgynous features and hair styled so meticulously it looked like plastic, gave him the look of an automaton.

"Good afternoon, Miss Schnee, Mr. Taurus," he said shaking their hands in turn, conspicuously not giving any attention to Adam's eye patch. He spoke as if this were a polite business acquisition. Weiss could tell, much like her own congeniality, that it was all performative.

"Please, sit," Jacques invited, the same air of false politeness in his tone.

"You two certainly made a good impression in Argus," Dolion said as he sat. He removed a stack of printed papers from a briefcase stored out of their view.

"I have every intention of repairing the reputation of my grandfather's business," Weiss said, matching their energy of polite, but cold.

The lawyer may have been ignorant of the insult, but Jacques was certainly not, his face ever-so-slightly curling into a scar.

"We might as well not bandy about," Dolion said, "You've made some substantial demands and while we want to find a solution that makes everyone happy, we all need to have realistic expectations.

Adam leaned back in his chair and let Weiss take the lead on this.

"Based on the evidence we have and are prepared to share, I think you'll agree our expectations aren't unreasonable, sir," she said with confidence.

"Perhaps, but you must also remember you have secrets to keep hidden as well. I'm sure neither of you would want it reaching the public that the former SDC heiress is sleeping with the High Leader of the White Fang." He looked directly at Adam. "Or that he's been smuggled into Atlas by none other than General Ironwood."

"Outing me will only reveal that I'd been kidnapped and my father did nothing to try and find me."

"Or it will serve as further proof that my daughter is mentally unfit to manage her own affairs," Jacques interjected.

Weiss rolled her eyes, turning her attention toward the head of the table, "You're going for the Stockholm Syndrome angle? That would only confirm to all of Atlas that I was kidnapped by terrorists."

"Not if you went willingly," the lawyer said calmly.

"I didn't and both of us will attest to it. I have scars, I have a brand on my back…."

"Which story do you think the public will believe? That the clearly troubled and recently declared Weiss Schnee was kidnapped by the Whit Fang and no one knew about it and in the meantime, she managed a fairytale ending where the High Leader fell so hard for her sweet spirit and warmth that he abandoned his people for her…"

"Because everyone knows Weiss Schee for her kindness and winning personality," her father jabbed."

"Or that a spoiled and traumatized teenage girl ran away from home because she'd been disinherited for her erratic behavior, cut off communication so she could not be returned only to join and then be radicalized by a group of faunus terrorists and seduced by its charismatic leader who is clearly using her and her hatred toward her father for his own personal vendetta." He had been shifting his eye contact from Adam to Weiss while addressing the both of them, but now shifted his focus directly to Adam. "Which one would you prefer the faunus believe?"

"What exactly are you offering," Weiss asked directly, drawing the lawyer's attention back to her.

"Our silence on Adam's identity in exchange for the Lisa Lavendar 'exclusive interview'."

"That's not enough," Weiss replied. "That doesn't address any of the things we discussed after brunch. My information will ruin everything my father has and wants. We can burn both our lives down, but he has so much more to lose.

Dolion removed a much smaller stack of papers and put them back in his briefcase. "Very well." He pushed the larger stack toward Weiss. "If you wish to split hairs, then this is the agreement we have drawn up to ensure that both parties leave with their public image and dignity without drawing too much attention from the tabloids…or the council."

Weiss pushed the paper between herself and Adam so they could read it together. The first introductory paragraphs she skimmed, skipping ahead to the bulleted items, including the one that included her restoration as the heiress of the SDC, the removal of the conservatorship, Jacques retiring and the ownership of Schnee Manor, but none of its contents, to Weiss. The next sent of numbered points listed out what Jacques would receive in exchange: no information collected from the SDC could be given to anyone any time under any circumstances, any information had to be returned without retaining copies. In addition, Weiss would forfeit any claim to her inheritance beyond the manor and headship of the SDC.

Until the final paragraph, Weiss read with confidence and triumph, but the loss of her inheritance gave her pause, mostly because everything she was to inherit from Nicholas Schnee would pass to Whitley.

"The Schnee has no bearing on this, why is my inheritance from grandfather even here? It's entailed away."

"That is true," the lawyer conceded, "The entailment cannot be altered unless you consent to it, but those are the insisted terms of your father." He spoke as if Jacques weren't in the room. "The Schnee entailments are only limited within the family bloodline, meaning you can sign away your entailments to any of Nicholas Schnee's descendants that have not chosen to legally relinquish their entailment." He was, of course, jabbing at Winter. She'd been so desperate to get out of from under father, she'd taken legal measures to disown herself, cutting her off from the family money. Whitley then, was the only other available option.

"You're determined to robe me of my inheritance," Weiss said wryly. "Is this your pound of flesh?"

"I'm sure Whitley thinks the same thing about you taking the SDC and the house," Dolion said as Jacques exhaled exasperatedly through his nostrils.

This was always about Whitley. The boy he always wanted, the baby, the one who would always do what father wanted. She looked at the contract in silence for a few moments. After another re-read, she signed the papers. The contract, as it was, gave her what she needed: the company, the conservatorship and the house.

One thing at a time.

Jacques signed as well and both parties shook hands with Dolion. Jacques immediately called for a servant to make copies of the contract so each would have a hard copy: a sign of good faith that they had every intention of honoring the bargain. Most of the details would have to be sorted by the legal team of the SDC and the family lawyer but things were underway.

Only after Weiss had the paperwork releasing her from her conservatorship did Adam hand over the flash drive.

"If you call and schedule a press conference, I'll call Lisa to cancel the exposé." Weiss offered.

Jacques responded by pulling out his scroll and pressing the speed dial.

Once she'd finished her call to Lisa, she sent a quick text to Winter.

Everything going well. Father is giving in to all demands. Paperwork to release me from conservatorship has been submitted. We should be back tomorrow.

She wanted to send more information, specifically about their mother, but Winter already had enough on her plate and the thought of anything she sent could be read by some random IT lackey and sent up the chain of command, seen and gossiped about all the way up.

There was no reply.

As Weiss kept looking down at her scroll, she couldn't believe the time. They'd eaten lunch at 11:00 and immediately afterwards started negotiations, how was it almost 7:00 pm? Between the endless signings of papers, scroll calls, and all the arrangements, it was night time. She realized all at once that she was spent: physically tired, mentally exhausted, emotionally sapped, and hungry.

"I think Adam and I will take dinner in our room this evening, if that's alright with you, father?" she said, more aloud than addressing him.

Jacques nodded, clearly the loss and fatigue was wearing on him as well. Weiss shook Dolion's hand one last time before retreating to her room with Adam.

"I need a shower," she said, stripping off her clothes. "My shower has a sauna function if you'd like to join me. It's very relaxing." She offered.

"That sounds amazing, but I want to be here when the servants bring the food," Aam replied. "Go unwind, take your time."

The long hot shower relaxed her, but being alone with her thoughts brought her back to the contract she'd signed, ensuring her dowry, her insurance policy and her trust from grandfather Nicholas would all be given over to Whitley. There was more as well. Nicholas had promised her some other things in his will when she came of age, including the grand piano, some jewelry pieces, and the suits of armor. Money would also have been taken out of the family trust for each of her children, and her original entailment included a 3% share of SDC stock. All gone. All rightfully hers, but Jacques put her in a position that required her to sign them away. Maybe it was a test. He wanted to see how badly she wanted to remove Jacques from power and he was trying to see if he could scare her out of it, or maybe it was his pound of flesh: the only vengeance he could get in his last few moments of having power over her. Then again, it could have just been his ploy to get even more for his favorite child. Again, it was all a game of mental chess with her father and she was tired of playing. She'd gotten him to a stalemate and that was good enough for her.

She returned to her bedroom, wrapped in her fluffy robe to find the servants had sent them up a dinner of smoked salmon with green beans almondine and a cilantro lime rice pilaf.

"A victory dinner indeed," Adam said, removing the dish covers.

They discussed their plans once they returned to the military base as the ate. Weiss wondered if Jacques had bugged the room to listen in on their conversation. She didn't put it past him, but that didn't sound like something he would do…but it did sound like something Arthur Watts would do, but would he even be given access to this room? Had he been to the manor? Would Jacques have risked letting the servants see a man presumed dead and wanted by the law?

"You're overthinking again, aren't you?" Adam asked.

"I don't know if I'll ever believe it's over and done with," Weiss said honestly. "He's always looking for an angle to get the upper hand."

Adam reached across the bed and took her hand. "We won this round. We can keep an eye out for the war, but at least let us enjoy this victory."

Weiss burst into tears so suddenly, Adam recoiled, letting go of her hand and pulling back.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I know this is for the greater good, but I have to let go of the one thing I was so proud of, my family legacy."

"What you signed away was money and stuff, but what you got was the real legacy," Adam assured her, "The company is what Nicholas Schnee founded, and it's now back in the hands of a true Schnee, one that will build better future for all of us."

"But my family treasures, my heirlooms…they're not just going back to my mom or to Winter. They're going to Whitley. And it's only a matter of time before Whitley starts fighting me on the company. He's going to own 6% of the shares and he'll have sway with the stock holders and the trustees. I have no guarantee Whitley won't weaponize the board members against me and oust me once things are quiet enough that we can't reasonably blame it on my father."

Adam cupped Weiss' head in his hands, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Your ability to analyze threats and strategize around them is one of the things I love about you, but you're going to make yourself sick if you keep second guessing every decision we just came to. We worked this out. We followed the plan. We got you out of the conservatorship. We got the company. Let that put your mind at ease for now. We will have time later to negotiate with Whitley for the company stock and the heirlooms and anything else you want. For now, we can take a deep breath and relax knowing we accomplished what we came here to do." He kissed her. "And you did it very well," he added.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You're right. I just…I'm almost too afraid to admit victory because I'm terrified once I do, the other shoe will drop."

"Well, if and when it does, you'll be in a position to make decisions for yourself and a dust company at your disposal, so we're in a much better position now than when we came." Adam kissed her again.

"Thank you," Weiss said. "You're right. We won today. And the victory salmon was delicious."

Adam stood, removing his eyepatch, followed by shirt as he headed for the bathroom. "I'm going to clean up and then we're going to celebrate properly."

"I'll get dinner cleaned up," Weiss called after him.

At least if her father was listening in on the room, he was about to get an earful.

It was well after midnight when Weiss started awake. She was cold, despite being under the covers and in Adam's arms. His breathing was labored, and he was cold to the touch.

"Adam?" She turned to see he was wide awake and staring at her, panic in both his blue and crimson eye.

"Weiss…I…I…can't….move…" he spoke in long dragged breaths.

"What's wrong?" She clambered off the bed, pulling the covers back to look for some injury.

"Aura…" he gasped. "It's…the…collar…"

Weiss immediately reached for the dust collar the Atlesean military had fitted him with before he was allowed to leave the base. She turned it over, trying to find some damage or flaw in the metal that would explain it draining his aura rather than dampening it. It was similar enough to the one Weiss had worn that she knew about the tiny red light that blinked on the underside of where the almost seamless collar closed. The red light, no larger than the head of a straight pin was supposed to blink red when functioning properly but fade to black if the dust supply was depleted.

The light on Adam's was solid red.

It was killing him.

As Weiss' mind raced trying to figure out how this had happened and how to make it stop, only one name came to mind as to who could do this that wanted Adam dead.

Watts.