Chapter 3

Sarah sat in the back of her car, the city lights blurring past the window. She felt nothing. The rage had cooled into a solid, heavy block of ice in her chest. For years, she had played the part of the detached, spendthrift wife. It was a role she had perfected, a shield against the hollow reality of her life. Now, the shield was gone.

The car pulled up to the Miller family mansion. David was waiting on the steps, his face a mask of fury.

"Where is Olivia?" he demanded as Sarah got out of the car.

"I sent her to your mother' s house," Sarah replied, walking past him toward the front door.

"You what?" He grabbed her arm, spinning her around. "Are you insane? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about our son," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "He' s in the hospital, David. Because of her son."

He stared at her, his jaw tight. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something in his eyes-guilt, perhaps. But it was gone as quickly as it came. He dropped her arm and rushed to his own car, peeling out of the driveway without another word.

Inside, Liam was waiting in the grand foyer, his small face etched with worry. His good eye followed his father' s retreating car.

"Is Dad leaving again?" he asked, his voice small.

Sarah knelt in front of him, gently brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "Yes, sweetie. He is."

"Will he be back for my birthday?"

Sarah' s heart ached. She looked into her son' s hopeful eyes and told him the truth. "No, Liam. From now on, it' s just going to be you and me."

Meanwhile, across town, a terrified Leo was shoved into the opulent, suffocatingly formal living room of Eleanor Miller.

Eleanor, David' s mother, looked down her nose at the boy. She had never shown much affection for Liam, her legitimate grandson. This boy, the product of a sordid affair, was an insult to the family name.

"So, you' re the one," she said, her voice dripping with contempt.

Leo, spoiled and arrogant, had no sense of the danger he was in. He glared back at the old woman.

"Yeah, I am. And my dad is David Miller. He' s rich. He can buy you a hundred houses like this one, you old hag."

The slap echoed through the silent room. Eleanor' s hand was surprisingly strong. A red mark bloomed on Leo' s cheek.

"How dare you," Eleanor hissed, her face pale with fury. "How dare a bastard child speak to me that way in my own home."

She turned to her butler, her eyes cold and hard as chips of ice. "Take him to the basement. And bring me the acid we use for the pool."

Leo started to cry, a panicked, wailing sound. He finally understood.

"I want him to understand what happens when you disrespect the Miller family," Eleanor commanded. "I want him to feel the same pain that my grandson is feeling right now."

The butler dragged the screaming boy away. A few moments later, Olivia was brought into the room, her gag removed. She saw the look on Eleanor' s face and heard the faint, terrified screams coming from below.

And then she understood, too.