Chapter 3 - The Traitor in the Silk Dress
Vanessa froze in the doorway. She saw Dr. Marcus, the opened pillow, and Damian standing in the center of the room with an aura of pure, unfiltered vengeance.
“Damian?” Vanessa said, offering a practiced, sweet smile, though her eyes darted toward the bed. “What is going on? Why is Dr. Marcus here so late? Ethan needs his rest.”
“Drop the tray, Vanessa,” Damian said softly.
“What? Damian, you’re scaring me—”
“I said, drop the tray.”
Vanessa’s hands trembled, and the silver tray slipped from her fingers, crashing onto the carpet. The glass shattered, spilling the thick purple smoothie across the floor.
Dr. Marcus immediately knelt, dipping a test strip into the spilled liquid. Within five seconds, the strip turned dark black.
“Arsenic and organophosphates,” Marcus reported, looking up with disgust. “High concentration. A few more weeks of this, and the boy’s heart would have stopped permanently.”
Vanessa’s composure shattered. She took a step backward toward the door, but Damian’s chief lieutenant, Marco, stepped out of the shadows, blocking her escape with his suppressed weapon drawn.
“Why?” Damian asked, walking slowly toward her. Each step was deliberate, heavy with three years of agonizing grief and helpless terror. “I gave you a home. I gave you my trust. I gave you my heart after Rebecca died.”
Vanessa backed into the wall, her eyes wide with a mix of terror and bitter rage. “You gave me your scraps!” she spat, dropping her delicate persona entirely. “You thought I was just a sweet, helpful girl who loved your pathetic little family! But you destroyed my family first, Damian!”
Damian frowned. “Who are you?”
“My father was Julian Vance!” Vanessa screamed, tears of fury streaming down her face. “You ruined his shipping empire! You drove him to take his own life six years ago! You took everything from me, so I decided to take everything from you. Slowly. Deliberately. I wanted you to watch your precious son wither away day by day, feeling as helpless as I felt when my father died!”
Damian stared at her, his expression turning terrifyingly serene. “And Rebecca?”
Vanessa gave a cold, sinister laugh. “She figured out I was altering Ethan’s early health records. She was on her way to tell you that night. A little cut to her brake lines was all it took.”
A collective gasp echoed through the room. Claire instinctively pulled Molly behind her skirts, shielding her eyes.
Damian did not yell. He did not strike her. He simply looked at Marco.
“Take her to the basement,” Damian commanded softly. “Keep her alive. Call the Federal Bureau of Investigation and hand over all financial records associated with her offshore accounts. Let her spend the rest of her life in a federal supermax facility, where she can think about what she tried to do to a child.”
As Marco dragged the screaming, cursing woman down the hall, Damian turned toward the bed. He dropped to his knees beside Ethan, taking his son’s thin, cold hand in his own.
“He’s going to live, isn’t he?” Damian asked Dr. Marcus, his voice cracking for the first time in years.
“With immediate detoxification, fresh oxygen therapy, and proper medical care, yes,” Dr. Marcus said gently. “The damage isn't irreversible. He is young. He can recover fully.”
Damian closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against his son’s small knuckles, weeping silently.
May you like
Then he turned his head and looked at Molly, who was still standing quietly by her mother’s side.
“Come here, little one,” Damian whispered.
