Chapter 2

The next morning, Daddy brought that woman—Sabrina—home.

Her head was wrapped in gauze, her face pale, and she was cradled in his arms like she might shatter.

The moment she stepped into the courtyard, her gaze fixed on the ancient oak—and the swing beneath it, the one Mother and I loved.

Daddy had built that swing himself. My name was carved into the wood.

Her step faltered. A shudder ran through her.

"Damian, I'm scared..."

He was instantly all concern, bending down, voice soft, asking what was wrong.

"When I was little, I fell off a swing. It hurt so much."

Her hand drifted, as if by reflex, to her flat stomach in a gesture of instinctive fear.

"Now the sight of a swing gives me palpitations. My stomach—it's uncomfortable already."

Daddy kicked the swing viciously.

"Tear this piece of junk down. It's bad luck just looking at it."

"No!" I hurled myself in front of it, arms flung wide. "Daddy, that swing was your birthday present to me! Did you forget?!"

His brows knotted. Impatience flickered across his face.

Sabrina hurried to tug at his sleeve, all understanding.

"Damian, don't. It's my problem, not hers."

Then she crouched down and pinched my cheek.

"Rory's the little princess. We couldn't possibly upset her."

She angled her body so Daddy couldn't see, leaned in close, and dug her fingernails deep into my cheek. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"A little bastard like you—what makes you think you deserve to be a princess?"

Her nails stung like fire. Her perfume made my head spin.

I was about to cry when she gasped and toppled backward onto the ground. Daddy sprang forward and hauled her up, his face like thunder.

"Apologize to your aunt!"

Sabrina was doubled over, clutching her stomach, wincing prettily against his chest.

"Damian, don't blame Rory. She didn't push me. I saw a psychic—she said Rory would grow up to bring harm to our child..."

And then, still clutching her belly, she began to weep.

Daddy walked straight to Mother, his expression cold as stone.

"For Sabrina's sake, and the baby's, I'm sending Rory to the old estate for a while. The driver will take her shortly. When the child is safely born, she can come home."

Mother didn't so much as glance at him. She walked over to me, her eyes going straight to the throbbing marks on my cheek, and smiled tenderly.

"My daughter offended your precious little one? That's easily solved."

"No baby, no curse. Right?"

Daddy didn't understand what she was saying.

Just then, the workers loosened the ropes, ready to take the swing down. Mother stopped them.

"Wait."

She took the thick coil of rope from the worker's hands and weighed it thoughtfully.

Then she turned. Looked at Sabrina. Smiled.

Sabrina hadn't even registered what was happening.

Mother had already moved.

She was terrifyingly fast. Before anyone could react, she had looped the rope around Sabrina's neck and slung the other end over the thick oak branch, knotting it tight.

"*Ahhh!*"

Sabrina shrieked as the rope wrenched her off her feet. She kicked wildly in the air, face going scarlet, eyes bulging, both hands clawing at the noose.

"Damian—help—"

Everyone in the courtyard was frozen in horror.

Mother, meanwhile, leaned casually against the oak's trunk, lit a cigarette, and settled in to enjoy the show.

"This tree's a hundred years old. You said the baby in your belly was so precious? Perfect. I'll help it come out for some fresh air a little early."

Then she drew a silver-handled dagger from her waist.

Just as the blade was about to bite into Sabrina's belly, Daddy hurled himself forward like a man possessed.

"Seraphina! Stop!"

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