“LIE!” Noah cried through tears. “We saw Victoria! We were hiding under the bed! We saw her put the watch in Emily’s bag! She was smiling!”
The air vanished from Richard’s lungs.
“What…?”
“She said Emily was in the way,” Ethan continued, shaking with anger. “She said she’d send us to Switzerland so we wouldn’t bother her. She said she only wanted you and your money.”
Each word stabbed deep.
Richard searched their faces for doubt.
There was none.
“She pinches us when you’re gone,” Liam whispered, lifting his sleeve to reveal a purple bruise shaped like fingers. “She says we’re parasites. Emily is the only one who loves us. Emily smells like Mom… Victoria smells cold.”
Emily smells like Mom.
Something inside Richard shattered.
He looked at Emily—the “thief,” the “employee”—tearing her own apron to bandage his son’s hand.
She had nothing.
And she was giving them everything.
He lifted his head toward the mansion.
On the balcony stood Victoria.
Wine glass in hand. Watching. Unmoved.
When their eyes met, she closed the curtains.
Didn’t help.
Didn’t call an ambulance.
That’s when Richard saw the truth.
And it hurt more than any business failure ever had.
He dropped to his knees on the pavement.
“I’m sorry,” he choked. “God… I’m so sorry.”
He took Emily’s hands. Didn’t care about the dirt. Or the blood.
“Come home,” he said. “We need to treat them. And I need to throw the trash out of my life.”
The walk back was surreal.
Richard Hawthorne—owner of half the city—carried Emily’s battered suitcase in one hand and held Ethan’s hand in the other. Emily limped beside him, holding Liam, while Noah clung to her side.
Inside the marble foyer, Victoria descended the stairs, flawless and smiling.
“Oh,” she sneered. “You brought the help back? Were the brats pathetic enough to guilt you?”
Richard didn’t shout.
His calm was far more terrifying.
“The watch,” he said.
Victoria blinked. “It’s in her bag, obviously—”
Richard opened Emily’s purse and pulled out the Rolex.
“The boys saw you put it there,” he said coldly. “They heard everything.”
Victoria’s smile cracked.
“They’re children—she manipulated them—”
“SHUT UP!” Richard thundered. “I saw the bruises. I saw you close the curtain while my children bled in the street.”
She backed away.
“I did it for us,” she tried. “They’re a burden. You and I deserve freedom.”
Richard hurled the Rolex against the wall. It shattered.