Chapter 6 - The Violet Dinosaur
The kitchen fell into a dead, suffocating silence.
Vanessa stared at me in absolute disbelief, her wrist trapped in my grip. For a high-society woman used to walking over everyone in her path, the idea of a lowly cleaner physically intercepting her was beyond comprehension.
“Let go of me, you pathetic nobody,” Vanessa hissed, her voice vibrating with malice. “I will have you arrested, sued, and thrown out of this city before dinner.”
“You won't do anything of the sort,” William’s voice cut through the room like a razor.
He had closed the distance between them in three long strides. He grabbed Vanessa’s arm, forcing her away from me with a quiet, terrifying strength that made her stumble back against the marble island.
“My security team is already escorting your driver off the property,” William said, his voice deadly calm. “And every word you just said—including your assault attempt on my son—was captured by the hallway security cameras and transmitted directly to my legal team.”
Vanessa’s composure finally cracked. The polished corporate veneer slipped, revealing the desperate, frantic woman underneath.
“You can't keep them from me, William!” she screamed, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings as William steered her firmly toward the front doors. “The courts will give them to me! You’re an unfit father! You’ll lose everything!”
The heavy front doors slammed shut behind her, cutting off her screeching voice like dropping a guillotine.
The mansion plunged back into silence.
Luke was still standing frozen in front of me, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Without a word, I knelt down until I was eye-level with him.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
Luke didn't answer with words. He threw his arms around my neck, burying his face in my shoulder, sobbing with the heavy, broken release of three years of repressed trauma.
A second later, Mason came rushing down the stairs, abandoning his tough-guy facade completely. He dropped to his knees beside his brother, wrapping his arms around us both.
Across the room, William stood watching us, his hands trembling as he shoved them into his pockets, trying to hold himself together.
Leo walked over quietly, holding his purple dinosaur coloring book in one hand. He tapped Mason gently on the shoulder.
“Here,” Leo said, his innocent five-year-old voice breaking the heavy tension. “You can color the spikes purple. Purple means you’re brave.”
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Mason let out a wet, broken chuckle through his tears, taking the crayon from Leo’s hand.
For the first time since I had stepped foot into this broken mansion, the walls didn't feel like a prison. They felt like a foundation.
