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—”
“Leave or I’ll tell the police you poisoned him.”
Fear flickered in Vanessa’s eyes. But Noah clutched her leg. She straightened.
“No. Mr. Cole hired me. Only he can fire me. I’m not leaving.”
Victoria’s smile turned venomous. “Fine. Stay. But tomorrow those brats are going to a military school overseas. Enjoy your last night with them.”
Her cruelty escalated. She locked the pantry. When Vanessa showed her the twins’ empty formula can, Victoria mixed sugar into tap water.
“Give them this. Poor kids survive.”
“They’re babies!”
Vanessa used her savings to buy more formula. Victoria poured it into the toilet.
“Let them feel hunger,” she said.
From his hidden tablet feed, Adrian watched, fury building as Vanessa secretly mashed fruit to feed his sons.
That night Victoria’s lover, Derek, arrived. They drank Adrian’s wine at the foot of his bed.
“Where’s the offshore money?” Derek asked.
“We’ll use his fingerprint,” Victoria replied.