Chapter 2 - The Mask Comes Off
The heavy mahogany front doors slammed open, echoing like thunder through the marble foyer.
Patricia, still standing by the liquor cabinet in the living room, jumped in surprise, nearly spilling her drink. She quickly wiped her cold expression, instantly trying to mold her face into a soft, welcoming smile as she heard footsteps approaching.
"Richard?" she called out, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness as she walked into the hallway. "Darling? Did your flight get canceled? You're home so—"
She stopped dead in her tracks.
I stood in the center of the foyer, flanked by Arthur and three armed security guards. I wasn't wearing my traveling coat. My hands were shoved deep into my pockets, my posture rigid, my eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her take a step back.
"Richard..." she stammered, her smile wavering. "What's going on? Who are these men? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Where are my daughters, Patricia?" I asked softly.
"They're upstairs resting," she answered quickly, recovering her composure and placing a hand on her chest. "Oh, Richard, I'm so glad you came back! It's been terrible since you left. Rosa... she lost her temper with the girls again. I had to step in and protect them. I really think we need to call the police and have her removed today."
I looked at her, utterly fascinated by the seamlessness of her lies. How many times had she stood in front of me, telling me these gentle stories while my daughters suffered in silence?
"Arthur," I commanded quietly, never breaking eye contact with Patricia. "Bring Rosa down. And bring Daniela and Martina."
Patricia’s eyes flickered with a flash of genuine panic. "Richard, don't drag the children into this! They're traumatized! Let me handle the staff—"
"Shut up," I said.
The two words fell like iron weights between us.
Patricia gasped, stepping back as if slapped. "What did you just say to me?"
"I said, shut up," I repeated, stepping closer until I was towering over her. "Do not speak another word. Do not breathe too loudly. Do not move an inch."
Footsteps sounded at the top of the stairs. Arthur descended gently, holding Martina in his arms while Rosa held Daniela’s hand.
When Daniela saw me standing in the foyer, she froze. Her big brown eyes filled with tears, but she didn't run to me. She looked at Patricia first, a instinctual tremor running through her small frame.
That look broke my heart into a thousand pieces.
I dropped to my knees right there on the marble floor. I opened my arms wide. "Daniela... Martina... come here, baby girls."
Martina wiggled out of Arthur’s grip, and Daniela let go of Rosa's hand. They sprinted down the remaining steps and threw themselves into my arms. I pulled them against my chest so hard I could barely breathe, burying my face in their hair, weeping silently.
"I'm sorry," I whispered into their hair over and over again. "I'm so sorry. Daddy is here. Daddy is never leaving again."
"Dad..." Daniela sobbed, her tiny hands clutching my suit jacket. "Is Miss Patricia going to send Rosa away?"
I kissed Daniela's forehead, then Martina's, before slowly standing up. I pulled both girls behind me, placing myself between them and the woman who had terrorized them.
I looked at Patricia, whose face had gone completely pale as she realized the dynamic in the room had shifted irreversibly.
"You mentioned a bracelet, Patricia," I said, my voice dangerously smooth. "And you mentioned that Rosa was stealing from me."
"Richard... please, let me explain—"
I pulled a small black remote from my pocket and pressed a button.
The large high-definition television in the living room clicked on. The screen split into four live feeds, displaying the footage recorded over the last hour: Patricia snatching the stuffed rabbit, her sharp screams echoing across the room, her hand striking Rosa across the face, and finally, her phone call with Julian Vance detailing her plan to steal my land deeds and custody rights.
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The room fell into dead silence, save for the horrifying audio playing from the speakers.
Patricia stared at the screen, every bit of color draining from her face until she looked like a ghost.
