There was no attempt to catch himself. He simply dropped, lifeless, onto the Persian rug inches from the blocks his twin sons, Ethan and Noah, were stacking, unaware their world had just shifted.
“Mr. Cole!” Vanessa, the young housekeeper, screamed, her voice slicing through the silence.
She had been folding baby clothes near the crib. Dropping everything, she rushed to her knees, her yellow gloves shaking as she searched Adrian’s neck for a pulse.
“Help, Ms. Victoria! Please! He’s not breathing!”
Victoria Hale, elegant and composed, didn’t rush forward. No panic. No tears. Just a slow adjustment of her diamond earring as she studied her fiancé’s body with cool detachment.
“Stop yelling. You’ll scare the kids,” she said coldly.
She nudged Adrian’s shoulder with the tip of her stiletto.
“Adrian. Get up. Don’t be dramatic.”
“Ma’am, he’s unconscious! Call an ambulance!” Vanessa begged, feeling how cold his skin was.
Victoria gave a short laugh. “If he’s dead, he’s dead. Saves me a divorce.”
Adrian heard every word.
The collapse had been staged, a risky plan devised with his head of security to test whether Victoria loved him or his fortune. But even he hadn’t expected this level of cruelty. He forced himself to stay still. He needed to know if his sons were safe.
The twins began crying in unison. Victoria’s expression twisted with rage.
“Shut up!” she snapped, marching toward them with her hand raised.
Vanessa reacted without thinking. She threw herself between Victoria and the boys. The slap that followed rang through the room, heavy rings cutting her lip. She shielded the twins as blows struck her back.
“You’ll have to kill me before you touch them!” she shouted.
Through barely opened eyes, Adrian saw everything. The woman he planned to marry looked monstrous. The maid he barely acknowledged stood like a warrior. A tear slipped from his closed eye.
Ten minutes later, flashing lights filled the mansion. A private ambulance, secretly arranged by Adrian, rushed in. The paramedics were part of the plan.
“Save him! He’s the love of my life!” Victoria cried theatrically.
“He must stay here. He won’t survive transport!” the lead medic declared, following script.
Soon Adrian lay in a fake ICU setup in the east wing, machines humming to simulate a coma.
The moment the stretcher disappeared, Victoria dropped the act.
“You. Pack up. You’re fired,” she told Vanessa.
“I can’t leave. The boys—”