Chapter 2
The heavy mahogany door of the nursery clicked shut behind Julian with a dull, muffled thud, sealing them off from the rest of the sprawling estate. The room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of a single dim lamp, casting long, distorted shadows across the pastel walls. Martha sat heavily in the rocking chair by the hearth, her breathing gradually slowing as she unspooled the edge of the white blanket to check on the sleeping infant. The baby’s chest rose and fell in peaceful ignorance of the psychological warfare raging around him. Julian paced the patterned rug, his polished oxford shoes clicking softly, his mind refusing to settle.
"Tell me everything, Martha," Julian commanded quietly, pulling up a small wooden stool to sit directly across from her. "Leave nothing out. I need facts, not impressions."
Martha swallowed hard, her hand instinctively brushing against the tender purple bruise darkening her cheekbone. She looked down at her lap, her fingers tracing the hem of her white apron. "It started three weeks after master Leo was born, Mr. Sterling. You were away in Chicago for the board meetings. Mrs. Sterling came in here while I was feeding him. She looked at him—not with love, sir, but with a cold, hollow irritation, like he was an intruder in her home. She told me children ruin everything. When I tried to step between her and the crib, she struck me across the face with her signet ring. She said if I ever breathed a word to you, she would ensure my family back in the valley lost their farm and everything they owned."
Julian felt a cold sweat break out along the nape of his neck. The power Clara wielded through her family’s old money was vast, ruthless, and terrifyingly efficient. He had known she was ambitious, but this brand of cruelty was entirely alien to him. "Why didn't you leave, Martha? Why stay and risk your life?"
"Because of him," Martha whispered fiercely, her eyes locking onto Julian’s with unyielding conviction. "Who would protect him if I walked away? She doesn't just neglect him, sir. She resents his very existence. She treats him like a broken doll that won't stop crying."
Julian stood up abruptly, pacing toward the tall windows that overlooked the manicured gardens below. The moonlight washed the lawn in silver, making the hedges look like jagged teeth. He rested his forehead against the cool glass, feeling the chill seep into his skin. He had spent his entire life building an empire of glass and steel, believing that money and status could insulate his family from human misery. Instead, a monster had been sleeping right beside him in the master suite, wearing silk pajamas and a dazzling smile.
"That changes tonight," Julian said, turning back to face the nanny. His expression was granite, every trace of warmth scrubbed from his features. "Pack a small bag for yourself and Leo. We are getting you both out of this house before dawn. You will stay at my private guesthouse on the northern ridge. No one goes there without my express permission."
May you like
"And Mrs. Sterling?" Martha asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"Let her think she has won," Julian replied grimly, his fist clenching at his side. "I am going to pay my wife a visit."
