Chapter 4
“Serafina,” Vivian whispered.
“Stop pretending,” Elias said.
He ordered security to remove Vivian from the hospital grounds and call the authorities.
Vivian did not scream.
She did not throw herself at him.
She simply watched Elias as if seeing him clearly for the first time and understanding he was not the man she hoped he could become.
The teddy bear lay on the wet pavement.
A taxi wheel rolled over it.
Elias did not notice.
Maisie was moved to a private recovery room.
Serafina walked beside Elias, gripping his arm.
“I’ll stay with her,” she said. “You handle the legal matters. I trust no one else.”
Elias nodded.
“You are the only person I trust right now.”
Inside the room, Maisie stirred.
Her eyes opened through sedation.
When she saw Elias, she tried to reach for him.
Then Serafina moved closer.
“Sweet Maisie,” she cooed. “Auntie is here.”
Her diamond-ringed hand reached toward Maisie’s hair.
Maisie shrank back so violently the monitor beeped.
Her eyes widened in absolute horror.
Her body trembled. She stared at Serafina’s hand as if it were a snake.
Elias saw it.
But he explained it away.
Trauma, he thought.
She fears women now because of Vivian.
He kissed Maisie’s forehead.
“Rest. I will fix everything. That woman will never come near you again.”
He left to call his lawyer.
Divorce before sunrise.
Criminal complaint.
Full financial freeze.
He walked down the corridor already planning Vivian’s destruction.
Behind him, the private room door closed.
The silence inside became suffocating.
Serafina sat beside Maisie’s bed.
The gentle smile remained.
Only her eyes changed.
Cold.
Sharp.
Empty.
She slid her hand beneath the blanket and gripped Maisie’s tiny wrist hard enough to make the child wince.
“Don’t move,” Serafina whispered into her ear. “If you are good, Auntie will give you more of your vitamin, and soon you can see your mother.”
Maisie bit her lip to keep from sobbing.
Her terrified eyes flicked toward the glass of water on the bedside table.
The person Elias trusted most had been left alone with the child who feared her most.
Back at the mansion, Elias stormed through the doors like judgment.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, rushed forward.
“Sir, how is Miss Maisie?”
He pushed past her.
“Not now.”
He went straight to Maisie’s bedroom.
The room was painfully neat. Too neat. Pink canopy bed. Plush toys arranged by size. Sketchbooks stacked on the desk. The air smelled faintly of lavender and expensive cleaning spray.
Elias tore it apart.
Drawers flew open. Notebooks scattered. Dresses were pulled from the wardrobe. Bed linens yanked out. Dolls knocked from shelves. He searched for powder, bottles, wrappers, evidence of Vivian’s crime.
“Where did you hide it?” he snarled into the empty room.
Then he opened a lower cabinet and found someone crouched in the shadowed corner.
Vivian.
She sat on the floor among broken dolls, expired milk cartons, moldy biscuits, and hidden scraps of food. Her face was bare of makeup. Her eyes were swollen.
Elias grabbed her wrist and hauled her upright.
“What are you doing here? Destroying evidence?”
She said nothing.
Her silence enraged him.
“Answer me!”
Vivian bent down, picked up a worn sketchpad, and shoved it against his chest.
“You think you see everything,” she said, voice hoarse. “You read markets. You control employees. You predict crises before they happen. But you are blind in your own home.”
Elias glared.
“Do not try to shift blame.”
“Look at what your daughter drew.”
“Serafina saw you.”
Vivian laughed once.
Bitter.
Tired.
“Your beloved sister. Of course.”
She pointed to the sketchpad.
“Children do not lie the way adults do.”
Then she walked past him and left.
Elias stood alone in the ruined bedroom.
The anger remained, but unease crawled under it.
He looked at the sketchpad.
A pale purple stain marked the corner of the cover.
The same color as the liquid on his shirt.
He took the notebook to his study.
The study was his real throne room. Screens. Servers. Locked cabinets. Models of engineering patents. A massive desk where he had negotiated billion-dollar deals. Here, Elias Vance understood everything.
Or used to.
He opened the sketchpad under the brass lamp.
The first drawing showed him beside a tall building, smiling, holding flowers. Maisie had drawn him with warmth he had not earned. A father who came home in daylight. A father who held things other than a phone.
He turned the page.
Birds.
A sun.
Flowers.
Then the colors changed.
A dinner table.
Vivian stood outside the window, drawn in gray. Her mouth was covered by a strip of black tape. Her eyes were sad.
At the center of the table stood Serafina.
Huge.
Too large for the page.
May you like
She wore bright colors and a smile full of jagged teeth. In her hand was a cup filled with dark purple liquid.
Elias stopped breathing.
