The sharp crack of heels against stone.

The laughter died instantly.

The boys stiffened.

Maya stood up, her whole posture changing—like a light being switched off.

Victoria appeared on the terrace.

Elegant. Immaculate.

Cold.

“What is this?” she snapped, voice cutting through the air. “I pay you to work, not to play pretend mother.”

She stormed down the steps, grabbing Noah’s arm too hard.

“Look at you! Filthy! Ethan could be home any second—”

“Please, ma’am,” Maya said softly, stepping forward. “They were just playing. I’ll clean them—”

Victoria shoved her.

“Don’t tell me how to handle them.”

The boys shrank behind Maya.

Ethan felt something inside him shift.

Not anger.

Not yet.

Something colder.

Clearer.

He stepped out.

“Victoria.”

Her reaction was immediate.

The fury vanished. The tension dissolved.

In its place—perfection.

“Ethan!” she gasped, rushing toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You’re back! I thought you were flying already!”

He forced a smile.

“Meeting got delayed,” he said. “Thought I’d come home for a few hours.”

Her grip tightened, almost possessive.

Behind her, the boys didn’t move.

Maya didn’t speak.

Ethan noticed everything.

“Everything okay here?” he asked lightly.

Victoria laughed. “Just the usual chaos. The boys were acting up again. I was correcting them.”

Ethan nodded slowly.

But his eyes flicked—just for a second—to Noah’s wrist.

Red.

Finger marks.

And in that moment, the plan formed.

Not confrontation.

Not yet.

He needed truth.

All of it.

—

That night, Ethan pretended everything was normal.

Dinner was elegant. Victoria charming. The boys quiet—too quiet.

Maya barely spoke.

But Ethan was watching.

Listening.

Recording.

Because before coming home, he had received something strange.

An anonymous message.

A short video file.

He hadn’t opened it yet.

Now, alone in his office, he pressed play.

The footage was shaky—taken from a phone.

It showed the backyard.

Victoria.

The boys.

And what followed made Ethan’s blood run cold.

Her voice—unfiltered, cruel.

“You’re just like your mother,” she spat at Liam. “Weak. Useless.”

The boy flinched.

Ethan froze.

His late wife.

The boys’ mother.

Victoria had never met her.

So how did she know how to hurt them like that?

The video ended.

Attached was one line:

“You should ask her about the accident.”

Ethan’s heart pounded.

The accident.

The car crash that killed his wife two years ago.

Ruled… unfortunate.

Unavoidable.

But suddenly—

He wasn’t sure.

—