Chapter 2 - The Poisoned Mansion
Victoria laughed—a sharp, condescending sound that echoed off the high stone gates.
“You’re a housekeeper!” Victoria sneered, taking a step toward them. “You have no rights here! Richard, tell this peasant to let go of our boys right now!”
“Shut up, Victoria,” Richard whispered.
Victoria blinked, startled. “What?”
“I said shut up!” Richard roared, turning on his fiancée with a fury that made even the trees seem to quiet down.
Victoria recoiled, her mouth agape. “Richard! How dare you talk to me like—”
“Did you touch my sons?” Richard demanded, stepping into her space, his massive frame towering over her. His hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides. “Did you lock them in the storage room?”
“Of course not!” Victoria gasped, clutching her pearls in a practiced gesture of innocence. “Richard, you’re believing the word of five-year-olds over your own fiancée? They’re confused! They’re throwing a tantrum because their favorite maid got fired!”
“They have blood on their arms, Victoria!” Richard screamed, his voice cracking with emotion. “Noah has a handprint bruised into his flesh! Did they do that to themselves?”
Victoria’s eyes darted nervously toward the iron gates, calculating her options. For a fraction of a second, her composure slipped, revealing a glimpse of cold, calculating desperation.
“They were being disobedient,” Victoria said smoothly, her voice dropping its frantic tone and becoming chillingly cold. “They needed to learn discipline, Richard. You spoil them. A proper boarding school in Switzerland would turn them into civilized heirs instead of wild animals.”
Richard stared at her as if seeing her for the very first time. The beautiful, elegant woman from a high-society family—the woman he thought would bring stability to his grief-stricken home—was a monster.
“Get out,” Richard said quietly.
Victoria sneered. “Excuse me?”
“Get out of my sight,” Richard said, his tone dead and absolute. “Pack your things and leave my house before I have my security team throw you into the street the same way I just threw out Emily.”
Victoria’s face twisted into a mask of pure hatred. “You can’t do this to me! My father controls forty percent of the voting shares in your expansion project! If you break this engagement, Hawthorne Tech will lose its funding by Monday morning!”
“I don't care about the company,” Richard said, turning his back on her completely. “I care about my sons.”
Victoria stared at his back, her teeth grinding together. She looked at Emily, her eyes burning with pure malice. “You think you’ve won, don't you?” she whispered to Emily. “You’re nothing but help. By the time I’m done with him, he won't have a dime left to pay your wages.”
She turned on her heel and marched back up the driveway, her high heels clicking loudly against the concrete.
Richard took a deep, shuddering breath and turned back toward his children. He dropped to his knees in front of Ethan, Noah, and Liam, his hands shaking as he reached out to touch them.
“Boys...” Richard whispered, tears finally overflowing his eyes. “I’m so sorry... Daddy is so, so sorry...”
The triplets didn't move toward him. They pressed themselves tighter against Emily’s legs, hiding behind her navy apron.
The rejection hit Richard harder than any corporate failure ever could. He looked up at Emily, his face pale, his eyes filled with a desperate, silent plea for help.
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Emily looked down at the billionaire who had humiliated her less than twenty minutes ago. Then she looked at the three terrified boys holding her hands.
“We need to get them to a hospital, Mr. Hawthorne,” Emily said coldly, professional boundaries dropping entirely. “Now.”
