Chap 2
For several long seconds, no one dared to breathe.
The shattered champagne glass lay scattered across the marble floor, its sparkling fragments reflecting the stunned faces of every guest.
Victoria's confident smile slowly disappeared.
Her eyes darted between Daniel's furious face and the property deed displayed on his phone.
"No..." she whispered.
"That's impossible."
Daniel took one slow step forward.
Then another.
His polished shoes crushed the broken glass beneath them with a sharp crunch that echoed through the silent kitchen.
"You told everyone this mansion belonged to you."
His voice was frighteningly calm.
"You told my own mother she was living here out of charity."
Victoria swallowed hard before forcing a laugh.
"Oh, Daniel... don't be ridiculous."
"I was only trying to teach her responsibility."
Margaret immediately grabbed Daniel's sleeve.
"Please..."
"It's my fault."
"I accidentally dropped one of the serving trays."
Daniel looked down at his mother.
Her voice was shaking.
Not because she was afraid for herself.
She was afraid for him.
She had always been that way.
Even when life broke her heart, she protected her son first.
Daniel gently brushed a strand of gray hair away from her face.
"Mom."
"Look at me."
She slowly raised her tear-filled eyes.
"Did she do this to you?"
Margaret hesitated.
The silence answered everything.
Victoria folded her arms.
"Oh, for heaven's sake."
"She slipped."
"She's old."
"Old people bruise easily."
One of the guests quietly muttered,
"I don't think that's true..."
Another woman whispered,
"I saw Margaret cleaning since this morning."
Victoria shot them both an icy glare.
The room instantly fell silent again.
Daniel stood motionless.
Then something caught his attention.
A small scar on his mother's wrist.
It was old.
Weeks old.
Then another.
A fading bruise on her shoulder.
Then another beneath her sleeve.
His breathing became uneven.
These weren't today's injuries.
This had been happening...
for a long time.
"How long?" he asked softly.
Margaret looked away.
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
Still...
she remained silent.
Daniel turned toward the housekeeper standing nervously near the doorway.
"Anna."
The young woman immediately lowered her head.
"I..."
"I can't..."
"You can."
His voice wasn't loud.
But it carried absolute authority.
Anna began crying almost instantly.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ashford."
"I wanted to tell you."
"I really did."
"But Mrs. Ashford said she'd fire everyone who spoke to you."
Daniel's jaw tightened.
Anna continued.
"It started about six months ago."
"Every time you left for another business trip..."
"She made Mrs. Margaret clean the entire house."
"By herself."
"The bathrooms."
"The kitchen."
"The stairs."
"The garden."
"Everything."
Margaret quietly shook her head.
"Anna..."
"Please stop."
But Anna couldn't.
"Sometimes she wasn't allowed to eat until every room was spotless."
Several guests gasped.
Another servant began crying.
"Last month..."
Anna whispered,
"Mrs. Margaret collapsed while carrying laundry."
"Mrs. Ashford told us to leave her there."
Daniel felt the world around him blur.
His ears rang.
His heartbeat pounded so violently he could barely hear anything else.
He remembered every phone call.
Every time he'd asked,
"Mom, are you alright?"
She always answered with the same gentle smile.
"Of course, sweetheart."
"Victoria takes wonderful care of me."
She had lied.
Not to protect Victoria.
To protect him.
Because she knew how hard he worked.
Because she never wanted to become another burden.
Daniel slowly closed his eyes.
Memories flooded back.
He saw himself as a frightened ten-year-old boy.
His father had abandoned them with mountains of debt.
His mother worked three jobs.
She skipped meals so he could eat.
She sold her wedding ring to buy his school books.
When winter came, she wrapped him in her own coat while she walked home through the snow wearing nothing but a thin sweater.
She never complained.
Not once.
Everything Daniel had become...
Every dollar he had earned...
Every success...
Had been built upon his mother's sacrifices.
And now...
The woman who had given him everything...
Was being treated like a servant inside the very mansion he had built for her.
Daniel slowly opened his eyes again.
Something inside them had changed.
Gone was the heartbreak.
Gone was the confusion.
Only fury remained.
He walked toward Victoria.
She instinctively stepped backward.
"Daniel..."
"Let's calm down."
"You don't want to do this in front of our guests."
"Our reputation—"
"Our reputation?"
Daniel laughed.
It wasn't the laugh of an amused husband.
It was the laugh of a man who had finally realized he had married a stranger.
"You humiliated my mother."
"You tortured her."
"And you're worried about your reputation?"
Victoria's voice rose.
"I gave up my career for this family!"
"I entertained your business partners!"
"I made this house respected!"
Daniel stared at her.
"No."
"My mother made this house a home."
"You only turned it into a prison."
The words struck harder than any slap.
Victoria's face turned pale.
Desperate, she looked toward the guests.
"Someone say something!"
No one moved.
One elderly businessman quietly removed the Christmas gift he had brought for Victoria and placed it back in his briefcase.
A socialite who had spent years praising Victoria slowly shook her head in disgust.
One by one...
People began distancing themselves from her.
For the first time in years...
Victoria stood completely alone.
Daniel reached into his pocket once more.
This time...
He wasn't holding a property deed.
He was holding another document.
One she had never expected to see.
"I was going to give this to you tomorrow morning."
Victoria frowned.
"What is it?"
Daniel looked directly into her eyes.
"A Christmas present."
He placed the papers on the kitchen counter.
She picked them up.
May you like
Her hands immediately began trembling.
Across the first page, written in bold black letters, were two words that instantly drained every ounce of color from her face.
