I prided myself on being the "Tech Queen," the CEO who built Innovatech from the ground up.
My success came at a price: missed dinners, demanding schedules, and less time with my precious daughter, Emily.
But I always made sure she had the best, like the custom robot cake and Parisian designer jacket for her recent birthday.
Then, a photo on Instagram shattered my perfect world.
It was Emily's unique cake, her coveted jacket-but on another boy.
When I questioned my husband, Kevin, he casually dismissed it, claiming Emily had a tantrum and ruined her own cake.
A lie, I instinctively knew.
The unease deepened.
Emily, once vibrant, became withdrawn, her laughter replaced by silence.
During bath time, I saw them: faint, purplish bruises, tellingly finger-shaped, on her tiny arms.
Then she whispered the words that turned my blood to ice: "Maria gives me special sleepy juice at night, Mommy. It makes me sleep very, very deep."
Maria, the nanny Kevin insisted was "family."
My stomach twisted with a sickening mix of dread and fury.
How could I have been so blind?
Was my entire life, my family, a lie?
That night, with my heart hammering, I accessed the hidden security cameras I'd secretly installed across our house.
The "Tech Queen" was about to uncover her darkest secret.
And when I did, no one involved would escape her wrath.