They framed me for stealing a gold Rolex and threw me out into the rain, completely unaware that three minutes later, their six-year-old triplets would emerge covered in blood.

The scarlet stains were stark and terrifying against their identical white polo shirts.

Toby, the smallest of the triplets, was being half-carried by his brothers. Blood dripped steadily from his left arm, painting bright crimson dots on the pristine white stairs. Max’s face was smeared with dark red streaks, his knees scraped raw, and Leo was weeping so hard he was choking on his own breath, his hands trembling as he clutched a shattered, jagged piece of porcelain to his chest.

"Daddy! Daddy, help!" Leo wailed, his voice cracking into high-pitched terror.

"My God!" Victoria shrieked, backing away several paces, her hands flying to her throat. "What did they do? What happened?!"

Richard didn’t hear her. The world narrowed down to a terrifying tunnel. His billionaire status, his corporate stoicism, his pride—everything evaporated in an instant. He lunged up the stairs three at a time, dropping to his knees so hard the impact echoed through the hall.

"Toby! Max! What happened to you?!" Richard pulled all three boys into his chest, his hands frantically inspecting their limbs. The copper scent of fresh blood hit his nostrils, making him dizzy with panic. "Look at me! Toby, baby, look at Daddy!"

Toby was pale, his lips turning a terrifying shade of blue. A deep laceration ran down his forearm, still welling with dark crimson, soaking through Richard’s tailored shirt.

"Stay back!" Max suddenly screamed, not at Richard, but pointing a tiny, shaking, blood-covered finger toward the bottom of the stairs.

Richard followed his son's terror-stricken gaze.

Max was pointing directly at Victoria.

Victoria was standing at the base of the staircase, her eyes wide, shifting nervously between the children and the heavy oak front door. "Darling, let me call the private clinic," she said quickly, her voice unusually strained. "They must have been playing with the antique vases in the upper gallery. I told them not to touch those! They must have fallen—"

"Liar!" Leo screamed through his tears, his little body shaking with violent rage. "You pushed him! You pushed Toby into the glass cabinet!"

The words hit the grand foyer like a detonation.

Richard went completely motionless. The blood in his veins ran to ice. "What did you say, Leo?"

"She pushed him!" Max sobbed, throwing his small arms around Toby to shield him. "She was hiding something in Emily’s bag! We saw her! Toby had his tablet recording for his art project, and she saw him! She tried to grab it, and she shoved him into the mirror cabinet!"

"That is an absolute lie!" Victoria’s voice lost its smooth, velvet polish, turning shrill and vicious. "Richard, they are six years old! They’re traumatized by Emily leaving, and they’re making up stories! Toby was climbing the shelves! I tried to catch him!"

"She's lying, Daddy!" Toby choked out, tears carving clean trails through the blood and dust on his pale cheeks. He reached into his blood-soaked pocket with his uninjured hand and pulled out a cracked, smear-covered black memory card. "Emily didn't take the watch. She put the watch in Emily’s bag. She told us if we said anything, she would send us to a boarding school where nobody would ever find us!"

Richard’s gaze dropped to the bloody memory card in Toby's trembling palm.

Then, slowly, he looked down the stairs.

Victoria was already backing away toward the front foyer, her hand clutching her designer leather purse, her chest heaving. The gentle, aristocratic heiress who had shared his bed and his dinners for six months was gone. In her place stood a cornered, feral creature whose mask had completely shattered.

"Richard, listen to me," Victoria stammered, raising her hands defensively. "They’re out of control. Emily poisoned their minds against me from the start. You know how children manipulate—"

"Shut up," Richard whispered.

The tone was so lethal that Victoria froze mid-step.

Richard’s eyes were completely black with a fury he had never known in his life. He looked at Toby’s bleeding arm—a deep cut that needed stitches immediately. He looked at Max and Leo, hyperventilating in sheer terror, bruised and terrified inside their own home.

And then, like a tidal wave of crushing guilt, the image of Emily Carter struck him.

Emily, whose hands were calloused from working sixteen-hour days to ensure his sons were safe, fed, and loved. Emily, who had cried silent tears as she dragged her broken suitcase down the drive, while he stood like an arrogant judge and sentenced her to ruin.

"You touched my sons," Richard said, his voice vibrating with dangerous, quiet fury as he gathered Toby into his arms. "And you framed an innocent woman."

"Richard, you have no proof—"

"I have my boys," Richard snarled, standing up, his white shirt drenched in his youngest son's blood. "Get out of my house before I have the security team drag you to federal custody in chains."

Victoria gasped, swallowed hard, and seeing the murderous promise in Richard's eyes, turned and sprinted toward her sports car parked outside.

Richard didn’t care about her escape. Not yet. Her retribution would come, legally and utterly. Right now, Toby was slipping into shock.

"Max, Leo, hold Daddy’s belt! Don't let go!" Richard barked, carrying Toby down the stairs at a dead sprint. "We're going to the car!"

"No! No hospital!" Toby sobbed, clutching Richard’s collar weakly with his sticky, bloody fingers. His eyes rolled back slightly. "I want Emily! Daddy, please... Emily knows how to stop the blood... Emily makes the bad things go away... Bring Emily back!"

"Emily! We want Emily!" Max and Leo wailed in unison, collapsing into another fit of panic.

Richard’s heart fractured in two. He hit the front doors, kicking them open into the cold, pouring rain.

The bus stop.

She had left only twelve minutes ago on foot. In this storm, she couldn't have gotten far.