Part 2 : The billionaire husband kicked his wife out to protect his baby. He didn't know he just handed his son to an assassin.

The acrid smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air, mingling with the metallic stench of fresh blood and the shattered glass scattered across the nursery floor. Maria lay motionless against the ruined coffee table, her eyes wide and staring blankly at the ornate ceiling. Across the room, Julian groaned, his muscles twitching involuntarily as the nerve agent Maria had administered paralyzed his central nervous system. His head lolled to the side, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.

Eleanor didn't waste a second. She dropped the jagged glass shard, her trembling hands slick with sweat and crimson stains. Ignoring the burning pain in her bruised arms, she rushed to the crib. Baby Leo was crying hysterically, his tiny fists flailing against his blue blanket. Eleanor scooped him into her arms, pressing his warm face against her neck, whispering frantic words of comfort through her own silent, streaming tears.

"Is he... is he breathing?" Julian’s voice was barely a raspy whisper, his vision blurring as the paralyzing toxin gripped his vocal cords.

Eleanor turned to her husband, her heart tearing in two. The man who had doubted her, who had cast her out into the cold rain just hours prior, was now lying helpless on the floor, dying. She set Leo down safely in the cushioned armchair and dropped to her knees beside Julian.

"Hold on, Julian. Stay with me," Eleanor pleaded, pressing her hands against his chest. "The head of security called the paramedics. They’re coming."

The head of security, Arthur Vance, stepped forward, his smoking gun still raised. His cold eyes swept over the bloodied nursery, lingering on Maria’s corpse before settling on Eleanor. A slow, chilling smile spread across his hardened face. He didn't look relieved. He looked satisfied.

"Arthur... call an ambulance... now..." Julian choked out, his fingers clawing at the carpet.

Arthur calmly reached into his tailored suit jacket, pulled out his radio, and clicked it off. He tossed it onto the glass-littered floor. "I’m afraid no ambulance is coming, Mr. Sterling. You see, Maria was only the appetizer. I am the main course."

Eleanor’s blood ran colder than the winter storm howling outside the mansion windows. "You... you were working with her."

"Maria was a magnificent actress, but a terrible negotiator," Arthur said smoothly, stepping over Maria’s body. "She wanted revenge. I want your empire. Sterling Global controls eighty billion dollars in international defense contracts, Julian. Did you really think your estranged half-brother would leave that to a toddler?"

Julian’s eyes widened in horror as the terrifying reality took shape. Arthur wasn't just the chief of security; he was an operative hired by Thomas Sterling, Julian's ruthless half-brother who had been exiled to London a decade ago.

Arthur pulled a sleek, silver syringe from his pocket. "The police will find a tragic murder-suicide. The disgraced wife returns in a hysterical frenzy, kills the faithful maid, poisons her wealthy husband, and flees into the night. It’s poetic, really."

Eleanor didn't hesitate. She grabbed the heavy brass floor lamp beside the armchair and swung it with all the strength left in her body. The heavy metal base struck Arthur across the side of his jaw with a sickening crunch. Arthur stumbled back, dropping the syringe into the darkness beneath the couch.