Chapter 3

I was sliding my feet into my heels when I heard the low, aggressive rumble of an engine in the driveway.

He was early.

In the previous timeline, he hadn't bothered coming home until evening.

My call to the Consigliere's office must have tripped a silent alarm, or perhaps fate was simply trying to test my resolve.

The front door swung opened.

Tom strode in, but he wasn't alone.

Crystal Spencer sauntered in behind him, her hand resting possessively on the shoulder of a boy who looked like a miniature, sharper-edged replica of Tom.

Kyle.

"Sarah!" Tom barked, his face mottled with irritation. "What is this I hear about you calling the main office? Are you out of your mind?"

I stood at the bottom of the stairs, smoothing the fabric of my black dress with deliberate calm.

"I was merely inquiring about the school application," I said.

Crystal stepped forward, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. She wore designer silks that I knew were paid for with money skimmed from the Family's tribute.

"Oh, honey," she purred, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Tom told me you were upset. But really, bothering the leadership? It's not a good look."

"This is my house," I said, locking eyes with her. "You are not welcome here."

Tom laughed. It was a harsh, barking sound.

"This is my house, Sarah. And Crystal is here because I said so. She's family."

"She's a parasite," I corrected.

Kyle wandered into the living room, ignoring the toy chest entirely.

He went straight to the mantelpiece.

He snatched up the snow globe Danny loved. It was a limited edition from New York, a gift from my father before he passed.

Kyle looked at me, making dead eye contact.

Then, slowly, he opened his hand.

The globe hit the hardwood floor and shattered with a sickening crunch.

Glass and water exploded across the varnish.

Danny, who had been hiding behind the sofa, let out a stifled sob.

"Oops," Kyle said, his face devoid of emotion.

"Kyle!" Crystal chided, but she was smiling. "Be careful, sweetie. Cheap glass breaks so easily."

Tom didn't even glance at the mess.

He stalked up to me, invading my personal space, using his height to loom over me.

"You are embarrassing me," he hissed, his breath a cloying mix of mints and rot. "You need to learn your place."

"And where is that, Tom?" I asked, refusing to flinch. "Buried in the backyard so you can move her in?"

His eyes widened. He wasn't used to resistance.

He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh.

"You listen to me," he whispered dangerously. "Danny is going to the cabin today. And you are going to keep your mouth shut. Or I will have you committed. Hysterical wives have a short shelf life in this world."

In my first life, I would have trembled.

I would have begged.

But I looked at his hand on my arm, and then I looked up at his face.

"Let go of me," I said.

"Or what?" he challenged.

"Or you will regret touching the mother of the only legitimate heir you will ever have."

He shoved me back, visibly disgusted.

"Get the kid ready," he ordered. "The van is coming in an hour."

He turned to Crystal, his demeanor instantly softening. "Go make yourself a drink, babe. Ignore the crazy bitch."

I watched them walk into my kitchen.

I looked at Danny, who was trying to pick up the shards of his snow globe with trembling hands.

"Leave it, baby," I said softly.

I wasn't just going to pack a bag.

I was going to pack a weapon.