Chapter 3

After I got Olivia settled, I walked back downstairs. The sound of my footsteps on the polished wood floor was the only sound in the suddenly quiet house.

They were in the dining room, gathered around the large table, already eating dinner without me or Olivia. Tiffany was dabbing at Liam' s eyes with a napkin, while he put on a show of heaving sobs. Brenda was glaring at me, her fork held tight in her fist. Mark, Tiffany' s husband, a quiet man who usually stayed out of the way, just stared at his plate.

"Jake, you have some nerve," Tiffany started, her voice shrill. "How could you do that to Liam? He' s just a little boy! You almost broke his arm!"

Liam, on cue, wailed louder. "My arm hurts! Waaah!"

I looked at the boy, then at his mother. The sheer hypocrisy was breathtaking. They were accusing me of hurting their precious son, while my daughter was upstairs with a fever and bruises they had ignored or caused.

I walked calmly to the table. I didn' t say a word. I just looked at Liam.

"Come here," I said, my voice dangerously soft.

He looked at Tiffany, who gave him a slight nod. He sniffled and shuffled towards me, expecting an apology, maybe even a toy to make up for my outburst.

When he was within arm' s reach, I raised my hand and slapped him.

Crack.

The sound echoed in the silent room. It wasn' t a hard slap, not enough to truly injure him, but it was sharp and loud and utterly shocking.

Liam' s fake crying stopped instantly, his eyes wide with disbelief. Everyone froze.

Tiffany was the first to react. She leaped up from her chair, her face contorted with rage. "You bastard!" she shrieked, launching herself at me, her nails aiming for my face.

The old me, Chloe, would have cowered. But I was in Jake' s body now. A body that was taller, stronger. I caught her wrists easily, my grip like iron. She struggled, but it was useless.

With my other hand, I slapped her. Hard.

Smack.

Her head snapped to the side. She stared at me, stunned.

I slapped her again.

Smack.

And again.

Smack.

Each slap was a release. For every time she had sneered at me. For every time she had let Liam bully Olivia. For every bit of pain my daughter had suffered in this house. This was for Olivia.

"Stop it! Jake, have you gone mad?" Brenda finally screamed, scrambling to her feet. Mark just sat there, his mouth hanging open, completely useless.

I let go of Tiffany and she stumbled back, collapsing into her chair, holding her red, stinging cheek.

Brenda pointed a trembling finger at me. "How dare you! How dare you hit your own sister! Is it because of that woman? That useless Chloe? You' re betraying your own family for her and her brat!"

I turned to face her. My anger was a cold, controlled thing now. I felt powerful. In control.

"Shut up," I said. The words were quiet, but they carried more weight than all their shouting. The room fell silent again.

"I am Olivia' s father," I stated, my eyes locking with Brenda' s. "And from this moment on, things in this house are going to change."

I let my gaze sweep over each of them-Tiffany, sobbing quietly; Liam, now genuinely terrified and silent; useless Mark, who couldn' t meet my eyes; and Brenda, her face a mixture of fury and shock.

"My daughter is upstairs with a high fever. Her body is covered in bruises. While you all sat down here, stuffing your faces, you left a sick child to fend for herself. You let this little monster," I said, pointing at Liam, "beat her up."

Tiffany and Liam both flinched, a clear sign of guilt.

"You think I don' t know what' s been going on here?" I continued, my voice dripping with contempt. "You thought I was blind? Stupid?"

Brenda puffed up her chest, trying to regain some authority. "She' s a clumsy child. And Liam was just playing..."

"Playing?" I took a step towards her, and she instinctively shrank back. "Don' t you dare lie to me. I will not tolerate anyone, and I mean anyone, harming my daughter. This is my house. You live here because I allow it. That can change."

I let the threat hang in the air.

"From now on, if I see so much as a single new scratch on Olivia, if I hear you raise your voice to her, if you neglect her in any way, all of you will be out on the street. Do you understand me?"

No one answered. The only sound was Tiffany' s muffled sniffling.

"I said," I repeated, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "do you understand me?"

Brenda gave a stiff, jerky nod. Tiffany wouldn' t look at me.

Good enough.

Without another word, I turned and walked out of the dining room, leaving them sitting in a stunned, terrified silence. The air was thick with their shock. They had no idea what had just happened. They thought Jake had suddenly changed.

They had no idea. The real Jake was gone. And Chloe was just getting started.