Chapter 9 - THE FIREPLACEVictoria ran.
For the first time since Richard had known her, she truly ran—bare feet slipping out of designer heels, red velvet gown gathered in both fists, diamond necklace flashing against her throat.
Richard handed Maya to Mrs. Gable.
“Lock yourself in the library with her.”
Then he followed.
Conrad shouted behind him, “Victoria, stop!”
But she did not stop.
She reached the nursery first and tore open the door. By the time Richard arrived, she was already at the bookshelf, throwing stuffed animals onto the floor.
“Where is it?” she hissed.
Richard stood in the doorway.
“It’s over.”
Victoria spun around.
Her perfect hair had loosened. Her lipstick was smudged. The woman in front of him no longer looked like the poised socialite from magazine covers.
She looked desperate.
“You think one video makes you innocent?” she said. “You left her with me. You trusted me. You were so busy being the grieving billionaire that you didn’t notice your own child was terrified.”
Richard flinched.
The words hit because part of them was true.
He had missed it.
He had explained away every sign.
The crying.
The clinging.
The way Maya went silent when Victoria entered a room.
Victoria saw the pain on his face and smiled.
“There it is,” she whispered. “Guilt. That’s what I lived beside every day. Eleanor had your love. Maya had your heart. What was I supposed to have?”
Richard stepped into the room.
“A conscience.”
Victoria laughed bitterly.
Then her eyes shifted toward the fireplace.
Richard followed her gaze.
A small silver laptop sat on the writing desk near the wall.
Mrs. Gable’s backup system.
Victoria lunged.
Richard caught her wrist before she reached it.
She struggled, eyes wild. “Let me go!”
“No.”
She slapped him.
The sound cracked through the nursery.
Richard barely moved.
Victoria froze as if shocked by herself.
Then she whispered, “You made me this way.”
Richard released her wrist slowly.
“No, Victoria. You hid who you already were.”
Behind him, footsteps thundered.
Security arrived with Margaret and Conrad.
Victoria saw them and changed instantly again.
She stumbled backward, pressing her hand to her cheek as if Richard had hurt her.
“He grabbed me,” she cried. “You all saw him. He attacked me.”
Richard stared at her in disbelief.
Conrad stepped forward. “Richard, do not say another word.”
But Margaret was looking at the ceiling.
“Mrs. Sterling,” she said, “you may want to remember that this room has more than one camera now.”
Victoria’s face drained.
Richard followed Margaret’s gaze.
Above the nursery door, one of the junior security officers had clipped a temporary body camera to his lapel when responding.
It had recorded everything.
Victoria looked at Richard.
Then at Conrad.
Then at the laptop.
Her voice fell to a whisper.
“You don’t understand. If that footage gets out, I lose everything.”
Richard answered quietly.
“No.”
May you like
He looked toward the tiny pink crib.
“You already did.”
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