Chapter 3
I got the kids into the SUV myself.
James stood by the front door. He didn't say anything. But he handed me a thick manila envelope as I passed.
"For when you need it, sir," he whispered.
I took it. Didn't ask questions. Just nodded.
I drove us to the penthouse I kept in the city—the one I used for late nights at the office, the one Victoria had never liked.
The whole ride, the kids didn't speak.
Leo sat in the front with me. His eyes were fixed on the road. Emma and Aiden were in the back, curled together under a coat I had in the trunk.
I kept glancing at them in the rearview mirror.
My heart ached so bad I could barely breathe.
When we got to the penthouse, I carried Aiden inside. He was asleep. Exhausted.
Leo and Emma followed me. Quiet. Too quiet.
I made them hot chocolate. Put on cartoons. Laid out blankets on the big couch.
They sat huddled together. Watching me. Waiting.
For what?
For me to snap? To yell? To pull out a riding crop of my own?
I sat on the floor across from them. Kept my distance. Gave them space.
"I'm not going to hurt you," I said softly. "I promise. No one is ever going to hurt you again. Not as long as I'm breathing."
Leo looked at his sister. Then back at me.
He was seven years old. But his eyes were ancient. Tired. Old before their time.
"Are you going to send us back?" he asked. His voice was tiny. Broken.
My throat tightened so bad I could barely answer.
"No," I said. "Never. You're staying with me. Forever. Whatever happens, you don't go back to that house. Not without me. Not ever."
Emma leaned forward. Her small hands were twisted in her blanket.
"She said you wouldn't believe us," she whispered. "She said Daddies always believe Mommies. She said if we told, you would send us away forever."
I closed my eyes.
How many times had they tried to tell me? How many times had I been too busy? Too tired? Too distracted by meetings and flights and deals to see what was right under my roof?
"I'm sorry," I said. The words burned coming out. "I'm so, so sorry. I should have known. I should have been there. I failed you. All of you. But I swear on everything... I will never fail you again."
Leo stood up. Walked over to me slowly. Like he was approaching a wild animal.
He stopped in front of me.
Then he put his small hand on my shoulder.
"It's not your fault, Daddy," he said. "She told us if you found out, she would hurt you too. She said she had bad men who would make you go away forever. We were scared for you."
I pulled him into my arms. Held him so tight I was afraid I might break him.
Emma came over. Then Aiden, woken by the movement, toddled across the room and climbed into my lap.
We sat there on the floor for a long time. All four of us. Crying. Holding each other.
Later, when the kids were finally asleep on the couch, I opened the envelope James had given me.
My blood ran cold.
Photographs.
Dozens of them.
Dates printed along the bottom. Going back two years.
Victoria with the riding crop.
Victoria locking the basement door.
Victoria dragging Emma by the arm up the stairs.
Bruises on little arms and legs. Close-ups. Clear. Documented.
And at the very bottom...
A handwritten note from James.
Sir,
I have worked for your family for twenty years. I loved your father. I love these children. I am an old man. She threatened to have me arrested if I spoke. Said she would tell the police I was the one hurting them. No one would have believed an old servant over the great Victoria Harrington.
I am sorry I waited so long.
I have more. The other servants have more. We are all ready to testify. Whenever you need us.
James
I set the envelope down.
Stared at the wall for a long time.
Two years.
Two years my children had been living in hell. While I flew around the world. While I gave speeches about helping children. While I posed for photographs with my perfect family.
I stood up. Walked to the window. Looked out over the city.
Victoria wanted a war.
May you like
She was going to get one.
And I was going to burn every single thing she loved to the ground.
