The Grieving Master Ordered the Maid's Child Thrown Out — Until He Opened the Silver Locket Around Her Neck

Panic completely consumed Beatrice. The pristine, untouchable image she had cultivated for three years shattered into a million pieces. She was facing life in prison for murder, and she knew it.

With a guttural, pathetic sob, Beatrice spun around and bolted down the hallway.

"Let her go," Adrian commanded calmly as the security guards instinctively moved to chase her. "She won't get far."

He was right. As Beatrice reached the top of the grand staircase, the heavy oak front doors of the estate violently burst open. Red and blue police lights flooded the grand foyer, painting the marble floors in flashing, unforgiving colors.

"Police! Nobody move!" an officer shouted, aiming his weapon up the stairs.

Beatrice froze on the top step, her designer heels slipping. She looked down at the officers, then looked back at Adrian, who had walked out of the bedroom and stood at the end of the hall, watching her downfall with absolute, chilling satisfaction.

"You planned this," Beatrice cried hysterically, falling to her knees on the expensive carpet. "You knew!"

"I promised Evelyn I would protect our family," Adrian said softly, turning his back on her. "Enjoy your cage."

Officers stormed up the stairs, aggressively grabbing Beatrice by the arms and dragging her down, reading her Miranda rights as she screamed and kicked like a feral animal. The cruel tyrant of the estate had finally fallen.

Adrian walked back into the warm, lamp-lit bedroom. The heavy oak door clicked shut behind him, blocking out the chaos of the police downstairs.

He looked at Claire. The pale, terrified estate worker was still kneeling on the floor, holding Nora in her arms. She looked exhausted, as if carrying a mountain of secrets had finally broken her back.

"Claire," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a gentle, respectful tone.

She looked up, fresh tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't save her, sir. I'm so sorry."