She turned, startled, the towel frozen midair. For a second she tried to smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Adrian, you’re home early.”
He stepped inside slowly, his gaze fixed on Harper’s wrist, then on Miles’s tear-streaked face. “What’s happening here?”
“Nothing,” Lillian replied quickly. “Harper’s being dramatic. I’m just trying to teach them some discipline.”
Harper didn’t look at him. She stared at the floor as if it might swallow her whole.
Adrian crouched beside her, careful not to startle her. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, “did she hurt you?”
Harper lifted her eyes. They looked older than six years should allow. “Daddy,” she breathed. Then her voice broke. “Please… don’t go away again.”
Behind him, Lillian exhaled in frustration.
Something inside Adrian shifted permanently.
Choosing What Matters
“Adrian, you’re overreacting,” Lillian said, her tone sharpening. “Children need structure. Harper refuses to listen, and the baby never stops crying.”
“Step back,” Adrian replied, surprised at the calm authority in his own voice.
Lillian gave a short laugh. “Don’t embarrass me in my own kitchen.”
“In our kitchen,” he corrected quietly. Then he turned back to Harper. “Come here.”
He extended his hand.
Harper hesitated. She glanced at Lillian first, as if asking permission just to breathe. That hesitation was louder than any confession. Finally, she slipped her fingers into her father’s.
Adrian lifted Miles from the high chair. The baby clung to his shirt, hiccupping softly. Adrian pressed his cheek against his son’s hair and felt a surge of fierce protectiveness rise within him—clear, focused, unshakeable.
“Harper,” he said gently, “go sit in the living room. I’ll be right there.”
Lillian moved toward the doorway. “If you spoil her now, you’ll regret it. She manipulates you.”
Adrian met her eyes. “Move.”
When she didn’t, he took out his phone and called the head of security. “Grant, I need you inside. Immediately.”
Lillian’s composure flickered. “Are you serious right now?”
“Yes,” Adrian said evenly. “This ends tonight.”
Grant arrived within minutes. Adrian asked him to escort Lillian to the guest wing while he made a call to his attorney. Her protests shifted from anger to disbelief, then to wounded pride.
“Are you choosing them over me?” she demanded.
“I’m choosing what’s right,” he replied. “If my children feel afraid in their own home, then something is deeply wrong.”
He carried Miles into the living room where Harper sat stiffly at the edge of the sofa. He knelt before her.