He Kicked Down the Door to Destroy the Maid — Until Her 3-Year-Old Son Stood in Front of His Sick Daughter With a Hidden Pink Backpack

Cyanide.

Gabriel had spent fifteen years in the shadowy underworld before cleaning his empire up for his daughter. He knew the scent of chemical poison in an instant. His heart dropped into his stomach, a cold dread washing through his veins that made his vision blur red.

Before Gabriel could speak, the estate doors swung open again.

Julian Mercer stepped into the foyer, shaking rain from a designer umbrella. He was dressed in an immaculate beige cashmere coat, his handsome face sculpted into a mask of urgent concern. Behind him walked Evelyn, Gabriel’s polished socialite fiancée, clutching her luxury handbag with an expression of aristocratic disgust.

"Gabriel!" Julian called out, rushing forward with theatrical alarm. "Thank God you're safe! Did she hurt Abby? Security told me you broke the doors down!"

Evelyn gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with manicured fingers. "Oh, heavens! Look at the child! Gabriel, why is that dirty maid still in this house? Call the police immediately! She’s terrifying poor Abigail!"

Julian pushed past the guards, his eyes immediately locking onto the amber bottles lying on the marble floor next to Claire. A flash of raw panic flickered across his eyes for a split second before he masked it with righteous indignation.

"You disgusting thief," Julian snarled, lunging forward with his foot raised, aiming a savage kick straight at Claire’s ribs. "How dare you steal from this family!"

He never made contact.

Little Lucy let out a feral roar that no three-year-old should possess. He threw his tiny body forward and clamped his teeth down hard on Julian’s expensive leather boot, growling like a rabid puppy.

"Get off me, you little rat!" Julian shrieked in pain and disgust, rearing his leg back to kick the toddler across the room.

"Touch him," Gabriel’s voice rang out, cold as a tombstone, "and I will cut your foot off at the ankle, Julian."