Part 3
The glow of the laptop screen illuminated Daniel’s face in the dark hotel room as he watched hours of recorded footage compress into minutes. He fast-forwarded through the quiet nights and the early mornings, watching Maria arrive before dawn, her posture slumped with a weariness that cut deep into his conscience. Then, he paused the playback at a timestamp from last Tuesday at noon.
On the screen, Vanessa walked into the kitchen wearing a designer lounge suit. Sophia, tiny and fragile, was sitting at the low breakfast counter holding a small plastic container. Daniel watched as Vanessa spoke to the little girl. There was no audio on this specific camera, but the body language spoke volumes. Vanessa reached out, snatched the container from the three-year-old’s hands, and walked over to the trash chute.
She dumped the food inside without a second thought.
Daniel leaned closer to the screen, his breath catching in his throat. He watched Sophia’s small shoulders cave in. He watched the little girl look at her empty hands, then down at the floor, too terrified to cry out loud. Vanessa said something else, pointing a sharp, manicured finger toward the laundry room, before walking away to pour herself a glass of wine.
Daniel watched three more instances over the past ten days. A banana knocked from the counter. A small bag of crackers pulled from a pantry shelf and thrown directly into the disposal. It wasn't an accident. It was a systematic, cruel game designed to torment a mother who couldn't fight back and a child who didn't understand why she was being punished.
A wave of pure, unadulterated fury washed over him, hotter than anything he had ever experienced in his business life. He had built an empire worth billions, yet a vulnerable child was being starved under his own roof by the woman he had promised to marry.
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He slammed the laptop shut, stood up, and grabbed his coat. He didn't call his assistant. He didn't schedule a commercial flight. He dialed the direct line to his private pilot.
"Get the jet ready," Daniel ordered, his voice shaking with a cold rage. "We are leaving for Connecticut in thirty minutes. Clear the airspace. I don't care what it costs."
