The Vulture in Red

​The woman didn't wait for an invitation. She swept into the shop, the heels of her Louboutins clicking like a countdown on the hardwood floor. She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing eyes that were perfectly made up and completely void of warmth.

​I recognized her instantly from the tabloids. Vanessa Laine. The shipping heiress and the woman Liam was supposed to marry five years ago.

​"Mommy, who is the lady with the mean face?" Mia asked, her voice small but piercing.

​Vanessa’s gaze snapped to Mia. For a second, her composure faltered. Her eyes widened, raking over Mia’s face—seeing the Sterling jawline, the curls, the unmistakable stamp of Liam’s DNA. A flash of pure, unadulterated hatred crossed her features before she masked it with a smirk.

​"So, it’s true," Vanessa mused, stepping closer. "The little incubator kept a spare."

​"Get out," I said, my voice low and trembling with a protective rage I didn't know I possessed. I stepped in front of Mia, my hands balled into fists at my sides. "You have no right to be here."

​"I have every right, darling," Vanessa laughed, a cold, tinkling sound. "I’m the woman who spent five years trying to fix the mess you made. I’m the one who had to deal with a fiancé who went cold the moment he brought that... broken thing home." She flicked a dismissive hand toward the window where Leo sat in the car.

​My blood boiled. "Don't you dare call him that."

​"Oh, please. The boy is a shell. And now Liam thinks bringing this one back into the fold will fix him?" She stepped into my personal space, the scent of her cloying perfume suffocating the smell of my roses. "Listen to me carefully, Nora. Liam might want you for your 'nanny' skills, but I know what you really want. You want his checkbook. You want the Sterling name."

​"I want my children!" I hissed.

​"You want a fantasy." Vanessa leaned in, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Liam doesn't love people. He acquires them. He took your son like he takes a company in a hostile takeover. He’ll take your daughter the same way, and once she’s polished and 'Sterling-ready,' he’ll discard you just like he did last time."

​She reached out, her long, red-painted nail grazing a petal of a nearby lily, bruising it. "If you go into that penthouse, you’re entering a war you aren't equipped to win. Liam’s mother—the Matriarch—already knows. And believe me, she doesn't like loose ends."

​"What are you talking about?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat.

​Before Vanessa could answer, the shop door was shoved open. Liam stood there, his frame filling the entrance. His eyes darted from me to Vanessa, and his expression turned lethal.

​"Vanessa," he growled. "What the hell are you doing here?"

​"Just welcoming your new... staff member, Liam," she said, her voice instantly shifting into a sweet, melodic pout. She glided toward him, placing a hand on his arm. "I was just telling Nora how excited we are to have the family 'complete' at last."

​Liam wrenched his arm away from her touch. "Get in your car. Now."

​"Liam, darling—"

​"Now!" he roared.

​Vanessa’s face twisted into a mask of fury. She shot me one last, murderous look before spinning on her heel and storming out.

​Liam stood in the silence of the shop, his chest heaving. He looked at me, his eyes searching mine for something—fear? Defiance? I didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing either. I just picked up Mia and grabbed the small backpack I had packed with her favorite stuffed rabbit and a change of clothes.

​"I'm ready," I said, my voice dead. "But let one thing be clear, Liam. I am not your servant. I am their mother. And if you or that woman ever treat my daughter like a 'complication' again, I will burn your world to the ground. I don't care how many lawyers you have."

​Liam’s eyes darkened, but he didn't argue. He stepped aside, gesturing for me to lead the way.

​As I walked to the Maybach, my legs felt like lead. The driver opened the door, and I sat inside next to the silent little boy. Leo didn't look up. He was staring at his shoes.

​Mia, however, was not silent. She looked at Leo, then at Liam, then back at Leo.

​"Is he my brother?" she asked, her voice ringing out in the quiet luxury of the car.

​Liam sat in the front seat, his silhouette rigid. "Yes," he said, his voice strangely strained.

​Mia reached out and poked Leo’s arm. Leo flinched, his eyes darting to her.

​"Why are you wearing a suit?" Mia asked. "Are you going to a funeral? You look sad. Do you want my rabbit?"

​She held out the worn, blue stuffed bunny. Leo stared at it as if it were a bomb. Slowly, his small, trembling hand reached out. His fingers brushed the soft fur.

​In the rearview mirror, I saw Liam’s eyes. They were fixed on his son’s hand. For the first time in five years, I saw a flicker of something that wasn't ice in Liam Sterling’s gaze. It was hope. And it terrified me.

​The car began to move, pulling away from my little shop, away from my freedom, and toward the glass tower of the Sterling empire.

​As we crossed the bridge into Manhattan, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from an unknown number.

​Check the hidden pocket in your daughter’s backpack. Not everyone in that house is your enemy. But not everyone is your friend.

​My heart plummeted. I looked at the back of Liam’s head. Who had sent that? And what was waiting for us in the penthouse?

​The arrival at the penthouse isn't just a move—it's the start of a conspiracy. What is hidden in Mia's bag, and who is the secret ally watching from the shadows?