Chapter 3: The Confrontation
Beatrice looked up, her expression tightening slightly as she saw her son standing in the doorway. She didn't flinch, nor did she look ashamed. Instead, she smoothed down her pristine cardigan, expecting his immediate compliance. She assumed Ethan would take her side, believing she was simply doing the hard work of disciplining an inadequate wife.
Then she froze.
The air in the bedroom turned to pure ice as Ethan stepped forward. His hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists, his chest heaving as a primal, terrifying fury took over his entire body. The illusion of his perfect mother, his safe childhood, and his family lineage shattered instantly in the quiet bedroom.
"What did you do to her?" Ethan whispered, his voice vibrating with a dangerous, lethal rage that made the pearls around Beatrice's neck suddenly feel like a noose.
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"Ethan, don't look at me like that," Beatrice said, forcing an arrogant, authoritative tone. "I am your mother. I am fixing the mistake you made by marrying this weak, useless girl. She was neglecting your child, crying over every little thing. A little discipline is what she needed—"
"Get out," Ethan roared, a sound so ferocious it caused the newborn in the bassinet to awaken and begin crying. Ethan instantly moved between his mother and the bed, his massive frame completely shielding his unconscious wife and his weeping child. "Get away from my family before I lose my mind!"
