Chapter 2 - The House of Broken Glass
The Vale estate sat atop a bluff overlooking the icy expanse of Lake Michigan. Surrounded by reinforced stone walls, high-security gates, and looming pine trees, the gray mansion looked more like an impenetrable fortress than a home.
When Dominic guided Nora through the heavy mahogany front doors, the interior matched the exterior—vast, cold, and eerily quiet. Marble floors glistened under modern chandeliers, but there were no family framed photos on the walls, no scattered toys on the rug, and no warmth in the air.
"This is where they live?" Nora asked softly, taking off her damp coat.
"This is where they survive," Dominic replied, stepping out of his suit jacket. His shoulders were broad, straining against his crisp white shirt. "My late wife, Elena, was the daughter of a rival syndicate boss. It was an arranged union built on hatred. She didn't want children. When they were born, she left them to hired help. When she died in a car accident last year, she left them with deep scars."
Before Nora could process his words, a loud crash echoed from the floor above, followed by a child's piercing scream.
Dominic’s jaw tightened. "Welcome to my nightmare."
They hurried up the grand staircase and down a long wing to the eastern wing. The hallway was littered with plastic building blocks and torn book pages. Standing in the middle of a doorway was a nine-year-old boy with wild black hair, dark furious eyes, and a bruised elbow.
Leo held a heavy wooden chair, raised above his head, staring down two terrified housekeepers who were retreating toward the stairs.
"Get out!" Leo screamed, his voice cracking with rage. "You're lying! You don't care about us! Get out of my house!"
"Leo! Drop the chair!" Dominic barked, his voice carrying the thunderous weight of a mob captain.
Leo swung his head around, his eyes locking onto Dominic, then shifting toward Nora standing behind him in her velvet dress. His young face contorted into pure, bitter venom.
"Another one?" Leo spat, throwing the chair to the floor with a deafening thud. "How much are you paying this one, Dad? Five thousand a month? Ten thousand? Is she going to pretend to like us for three days before she cries and runs away like the last one?"
Behind Leo, in the shadows of the nursery, seven-year-old Julian sat silently against the wall, a leather notebook clutched tight against his chest, recording every word with wide, frightened eyes. Near the window, the four-year-old twins, Mateo and Mia, were huddled together under a blanket, sobbing into each other's shoulders.
Nora felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. She didn't see bad children; she saw terrified, defensive little animals who had learned that attack was their only defense against a world that kept hurting them.
Dominic stepped forward, his tone hardening. "Leo, that is enough. Go to your—"
"No, Dominic," Nora said quietly, laying a firm hand on Dominic's arm.
Dominic froze, staring down at her in surprise. No one in Chicago commanded Dominic Vale to stop, but Nora's touch was steady, unyielding, and calm.
Nora slipped off her four-inch heels, stepping barefoot onto the cool hardwood floor. She walked past Dominic, stepping over the shattered toys, and knelt on the floor three feet away from Leo.
Leo recoiled, raising his fists. "Don't touch me!"
Nora didn't reach for him. Instead, she unclipped her expensive pearl earrings and laid them on the floor beside her. She reached behind her back, unzipping the top of her tight velvet gown so she could breathe, completely ignoring her own elegance.
"Your dad didn't pay me a salary, Leo," Nora said softly, her voice steady and warm. "My father sold me tonight because I can't have children of my own."
Leo stopped glaring. His hands lowered slightly. "What?"
"My family didn't want me anymore," Nora continued, tears glistening in her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. "So your dad bought my freedom. I don't care about his money. I don't care about this big, empty house. But I know what it feels like when the people who are supposed to love you treat you like trash. And I will never, ever yell at you for being angry."
Julian stopped writing in his notebook. The twins quieted down under their blanket.
Leo stared at Nora, searching her face for any sign of deceit, but all he found was raw, honest pain that matched his own.
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"You're making that up," Leo whispered, his voice trembling.
"Try me," Nora replied softly. "I'm staying in the room across the hall. If you want to throw chairs, I'll help you pick them up. But I am not running away."
