“Wait—” he began.
Valeria spun on him, fire in her eyes.
“Wait for what? You’re letting this opportunist touch your son? She’s manipulating him. That’s what poor people do—for money.”
Lucas looked at his sleeping child—for the first time in months at peace.
A chill ran down his spine.
“Why did he run to you?” he asked Marina.
She looked up. Fear filled her eyes—but not fear of losing her job.
Fear for the child.
“I don’t know, sir,” she lied, her voice trembling with a truth too big to hide. “I just… sing to him while I clean.”
Valeria didn’t care.
“Liar! Take the child! Search her bag!”
A guard grabbed Marina’s arm. Noah woke instantly and panicked, kicking and crying, reaching for her.
“Easy, my love—” Marina managed to cry before a hand covered her mouth.
The service door slammed shut.
Noah’s screams haunted the house like a ghost.
The party continued by Valeria’s command—forced smiles, nervous music, clinking glasses trying to erase what had happened.
Lucas wasn’t there anymore.
Two hours later, he went upstairs.
The nursery destroyed him.
Noah lay on the floor, exhausted, bruised from crying, banging his head against the carpet. The official nanny stood nearby scrolling her phone.