Chapter 5

Lewis’ POV

Shards of glass rained down like daggers. I threw my arms over my head and dove to the marble floor, the sharp edges biting into my expensive suit.

"Mr. Kensington!"

Heavy boots pounded against the marble. My private security team swarmed the room, their weapons drawn, sweeping the perimeter.

"Stay down, sir!" the head of security barked, stepping in front of me with his gun raised toward the darkness outside.

I slowly pushed myself up, my hands shaking. My pulse pounded in my ears. I looked at the shattered window, the freezing wind howling through the gaping hole in my home.

"Clear!" a guard shouted from the terrace.

"Sir, look at this," the head of security said.

He knelt near the edge of the mahogany table. Resting amidst the glittering shards of broken glass was a jagged, heavy rock. Tied around it was a piece of thick, white paper.

I snatched it from his gloved hands. I ripped the string off and unfolded the paper.

There were only seven words, printed in crude, black ink.

Stop digging into the security footage.

My blood ran cold.

I stared at the note, my breath catching in my throat. I hadn't even looked at the footage yet. I hadn't even asked the guards about the wiped cameras. But whoever did this knew I would.

Someone was trying to silence me. Someone inside my own circle.

"Lock down the estate," I ordered, my voice trembling with a sudden, terrifying realization. "Nobody gets in or out. Find out where that shot came from. Now!"

I roared, my voice cracking. The guards scrambled, leaving me alone with the shattered glass and the terrifying truth that my family's secrets were deadly.

I couldn't breathe in that house anymore. The silence was suffocating. The reality of Ruby’s empty closet, the signed divorce papers, and Kevin’s missing toys was crushing my chest.

I needed to get out. I needed someone to tell me this was all a misunderstanding. I needed Chloe.

I drove my sports car recklessly through the slick, rain-washed streets of London. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel. I kept replaying the hospital scene in my head.

Ruby, covered in mud, holding our shivering son. I had called her a monster. I had threatened to call the police on my own wife.

I needed Chloe to tell me I was right. I needed her to look at me with those wide, innocent eyes and swear that she would never hurt a child. I was desperate to cling to the lie I had built my life around. I needed her to validate my anger and prove Ruby was the insane one.

I pulled up to Chloe’s luxury high-rise, bypassing the concierge and taking the private elevator straight to her penthouse.

I unlocked the door with my spare key.

The penthouse was warm, smelling of expensive vanilla perfume. The faint sound of running water echoed from the master bathroom.

"Chloe?" I called out, tossing my keys onto the marble kitchen island.

No answer. Just the steady hiss of the shower.

I walked down the hallway, my mind racing. I wanted to hold her. I wanted her soft voice to calm the absolute panic rising in my throat.

I pushed the bedroom door open. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, thick steam billowing out into the bedroom.

I stepped closer, ready to push the door open and step into the shower with her.

Then, I heard her voice.

She wasn't singing. She wasn't humming. She was muttering to herself, her tone sharp, irritated, and completely devoid of the sweet, fragile innocence she always showed me.

"Stupid," Chloe hissed over the sound of the running water. "Absolutely stupid."

I froze. My hand hovered inches from the bathroom door.

"It was supposed to be easy," she muttered, her voice echoing off the bathroom tiles. "But no. The brat wouldn't stay quiet during hide and seek."

The air vanished from my lungs.

Hide and seek.

Ruby’s screaming voice from the hospital flashed in my mind like a physical blow. He said Auntie Chloe played hide and seek!

"Whining about the cold," Chloe continued, her voice dripping with venom. "I should have locked him in the trunk instead. Now the whole thing is a mess."

My heart stopped. It literally stopped beating in my chest.

A wave of pure, suffocating nausea washed over me. I stumbled backward, my hand flying to my mouth.

She did it.

Chloe did it.

Ruby was telling the truth. My beautiful, desperate wife had crawled through the freezing mud to save our son, and I had called her a monster.

I had threatened to take Kevin away. I had protected the woman who tried to murder my four-year-old boy.

I backed away from the bathroom door, my vision blurring with tears of absolute horror. I couldn't breathe. The vanilla perfume in the air suddenly smelled like poison.

I bumped into her vanity table.

Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

A sharp vibration broke through my panic.

I looked down. Sitting next to Chloe’s expensive makeup brushes was a cheap, black burner phone. It wasn't her main phone. I had never seen it before.

It buzzed again, sliding slightly across the glass tabletop.

My trembling hand reached out. I picked it up.

The screen glowed brightly in the dim bedroom, displaying an incoming call from an unsaved number.

I stared at the digits. My mind raced, piecing the numbers together. I had a photographic memory for numbers. I had seen this exact sequence just hours ago.

It was the number on Ruby’s shattered phone screen.

The exact same anonymous number that had sent the photo of Kevin’s mud-soaked bear.

The phone vibrated violently in my palm.