Just minutes earlier, the trap had snapped shut in the home library. Victoria—beautiful, elegant, and utterly cruel—had slipped her own gold Rolex into Emily’s handbag. When Richard, exhausted and distracted by business calls, walked in, Victoria played the victim flawlessly.
“She stole from me, Richard. That woman is a thief.”
He hadn’t hesitated.
Not once.
He didn’t look at three spotless years of service. He didn’t look at how his children clung to Emily like lifelines. He saw only a poor employee… and his rich, soon-to-be wife.
The verdict was instant.
“Get out! And if I ever see you near my children again, I’ll call the police!”
He’d thrown a stack of cash at her feet like garbage.
Emily had left it there. On the Persian rug. Her dignity wasn’t for sale.
But now, dragging her suitcase toward the bus stop, the pain in her chest was unbearable. Because Emily knew something Richard didn’t.
Victoria hated the children.
Emily had overheard her plans—to ship the triplets off to a boarding school in Switzerland. Far away. Out of the way. So they wouldn’t “ruin” her new married life.
Suddenly, a sound behind her made Emily’s blood run cold.
Not a car.
Screaming.
“MISS EMILY! MISS EMILY!”