Part 2: When an aunt slapped a starving five-year-old for reaching for a chicken wing, the boy's mother struck back with a blow that echoed across the lakefront villa.

Diane took an involuntary step backward, her jaw dropping in utter disbelief. “What did you just say to us?”

“You heard me,” Caleb repeated, his chest heaving under his dark denim shirt. “Pack your things, get into your cars, and leave my property. Right now.”

“You’re kicking out your own family for them?” Diane spat, her voice shrill as she pointed a manicured nail at Bruna and Liam. “After everything our family built for you? This house, your company position—you owe everything to the Sterling name!”

“I built my company with my own hands,” Caleb said coldly. “And this house belongs to my wife and my son. You are no longer welcome under this roof.”

Valerie lowered her phone slightly, a flicker of genuine panic crossing her features. “Caleb, be reasonable. Mother’s heart can't take this kind of stress! You’re burning bridges you can't rebuild!”

“Then let them burn,” Bruna spoke up, her voice steady and clear as she stepped up beside her husband. “You have disrespected my home and my child for the last time, Valerie.”

Diane sneered at Bruna, her bitter eyes shifting back to Caleb. “You’re choosing her over your own family?”

Without answering, Caleb turned his back completely on his sisters. He lowered himself onto one knee on the hard stone patio beside Liam’s wicker chair. His hard expression melted instantly into tender concern as he wrapped his broad arms around his shivering five-year-old son, pulling him gently into a warm, protective embrace.

Liam buried his tear-stained face into his father’s shoulder, his small hands clutching the fabric of Caleb’s shirt.

Diane watched the gesture, her face twisting into a bitter mask of defeat. “You’ll regret this, Caleb! When the board hears about this, you won't have a company to come home to!”