Chapter 4

Charlotte POV

"Put that down."

My voice was a sheet of ice.

Leo looked up. He didn't look scared. He looked defiant.

He had Aiden's eyes. The same arrogance, the same challenge.

"No," he said. "Daddy says everything here is mine."

"It's not a toy," I said, stepping forward slowly, trying not to startle him. "Give it to me."

Leo stood up.

He looked me right in the eye.

And then, without blinking, he dropped it.

He didn't fumble it. He simply opened his hands and let gravity take it.

The sound of shattering porcelain was louder than a gunshot. It tore through the silence of the room.

The music box broke into jagged shards. The little dancer lay decapitated on the rug.

I sank to my knees.

My hands hovered over the pieces, trembling.

"What did you do?" I whispered, my breath hitching.

"Mommy!" Leo screamed.

He threw himself on the floor and started wailing, instant tears springing to his eyes. "She pushed me! She pushed me!"

Running footsteps thundered down the hall.

Aiden burst into the room, followed by Haven and his mother.

"What happened?" Aiden roared.

"She hurt him!" Haven shrieked, rushing to scoop Leo up into her arms. "Look at him, he's terrified!"

Aiden turned to me.

I was still on my knees, holding the broken head of the ballerina.

"Charlotte," Aiden warned, his tone low and dangerous.

"He broke it," I said, my voice shaking. "He smashed my mother's box."

"It was an accident!" Aiden's mother snapped from the doorway. "He's a child, Charlotte. You're a grown woman."

"He did it on purpose," I said, looking up at Aiden. "Tell them, Aiden. You know what this meant to me."

Aiden looked at the broken porcelain.

Then he looked at a crying Leo clinging to Haven's neck.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"I'll buy you another one," he said.

"Another one?" I laughed, a sharp, hysterical sound that scraped my throat. "It was my mother's legacy. You can't buy a legacy, Aiden."

"Stop being dramatic," Aiden snapped. "You have no patience for children. That's why you're not a mother."

The words hung in the air, sucking the oxygen out of the room.

He was gaslighting me.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"He's your son," I said, my voice hollow. "Isn't he?"

The room went silent.

Aiden's eyes narrowed. "Don't be crazy, Lottie. He's my nephew."

"Liar," I said.

Aiden stepped closer, looming over me.

"You're hysterical," he said. "Go to your room. We'll discuss your... behavior later."

He turned his back on me.

He put his hand on Leo's back, soothing him.

"It's okay, buddy. It's just a toy."

Just a toy.

I stood up.

I carefully picked up the shards. One by one.

The sharp edges cut my palms.

I watched blood mix with the white dust, but I felt no pain.

"You're right," I said calmly.

Aiden turned back, surprised by my sudden shift.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Thank you for the gift of a son, Aiden. I'm sure we'll be a very happy family."

Haven's eyes widened.

Aiden looked confused. "What?"

"I accept it," I said. "The boy. The noise. The mess."

I smiled.

It was a cold, dead smile.

"I'll go fix this now."

I walked out of the room.

I went upstairs to my room and sat at my desk.

I took out the superglue.

I started to piece the music box back together.

I worked for hours.

When I was done, the ballerina stood again.

But she was covered in spiderweb cracks.

She was ruined.

Just like my allegiance to this family.