The video started playing.
My baby. My Ethan.
Tiny fingers being crushed one after another. His cries broke into sobs, his hands slick with blood. The sound of him screaming for me ripped straight through my chest.
“Mommy! Please—Mommy, help me!”
I screamed.
“Dominic—please!” I begged, dragging myself across the floor, every breath agony. “He’s your son. He’s our son. Ethan is just a child. Call them back. You have the money. You can save him—please!”
My voice cracked, shredded, but I kept talking because every second of silence meant he was closer to dying.
Dominic looked down at me with eyes full of something dark and ugly.
“Our son?” he scoffed. “How many times do you want to hear it, Vivienne? He’s not mine. I had the tests done. Asher is my only son. Maisie’s child.”
“That test was rigged!” I sobbed. “Marina interfered—she—”
“Enough!” he barked, cutting me off.
He pulled Marina closer, cradling her while glaring at me like I was filth.
“You really expect me to believe this circus?” he continued. “The tears. The hysterics. You think I don’t see through it? You hired someone to take that bastard, didn’t you? Just to get my attention again.”
My heart stopped.
“No—Dominic, I swear—”