Chapter 3 - The Boiling Point
Connor’s knuckles turned white around the handle of his briefcase. The rage surging through his veins was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Every lie his mother had fed him over the past six months—“Amy loves staying in her room,” “Amy insists on doing all the chores herself,” “Amy is just stressed because she isn't used to managing a nice house”—instantly unraveled.
He stepped out of the shadow of the back hallway, his heavy leather shoes striking the kitchen tile like thunderclaps.
Brenda was in the middle of pouring herself another glass of expensive sparkling wine when she caught sight of him in the doorway. Her smirk instantly evaporated, the glass wobbling in her hand. "C-Connor! You're... you're back early!"
Connor didn't look at Brenda. His eyes were fixed entirely on Amy.
As soon as Amy heard his voice, she flinched—a instinctual, heartbreaking reaction that tore straight through Connor's soul. She turned around slowly, gripping the edge of the wet sink for balance, her eyes wide with fear and shame.
"Connor..." she choked out, her voice breaking. She instinctively tried to wipe her wet hands on her stained apron, looking like a caught criminal in her own home. "I'm sorry... I'm almost done with the dishes. I didn't mean to make a mess..."
Connor crossed the kitchen in three long strides. He didn't say a word to Brenda. He reached out, gently took the heavy skillet out of Amy’s hands, and tossed it into the sink. The metal crashed so loudly that Brenda jumped backward, spilling wine onto her shoes.
"Connor, what are you—" Amy began, but Connor cut her off by wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her trembling body tightly against his chest.
She was burning up. Not just Leo—Amy was running a severe fever herself. Her skin was hot to the touch, her frame gaunt under her wet clothes.
"My god, Amy," Connor breathed into her wet hair, his voice cracking with unbearable guilt. "You're sick. Why are you doing dishes? Why aren't you in bed?"
"Evelyn said... she said I was a burden," Amy sobbed quietly into his suit jacket, her composure completely shattering now that she was in his arms. "She said because I don't bring in money anymore, I had to serve everyone... and Leo is upstairs alone, Connor, he's so hot, he was crying..."
Connor closed his eyes, squeezing her tighter as a cold, dangerous fury took root in his mind. He pulled off his tailored suit jacket and carefully wrapped it around Amy’s shivering shoulders. He reached out and unclipped her wet apron, dropping it onto the floor.
"Go upstairs to Leo right now," Connor said, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying register that made Brenda cringe against the counter. "Lock the door. Do not come down for anything. I am taking care of this."
"Connor, please don't cause a scene..." Amy whispered, terrified of the fallout.
"Go to our son, Amy. Now."
Amy looked into his eyes and saw a terrifying flame she had never seen in her husband before. She nodded weakly, turned, and hurried out the back kitchen staircase toward the nursery.
Once Amy’s footsteps faded upstairs, Connor turned his gaze slowly toward Brenda.
Brenda swallowed hard, backing up against the refrigerator. "Connor, listen to me... it’s not what it looks like! Aunt Evelyn told us Amy insisted on helping out! We were just letting her—"
"Shut your mouth, Brenda," Connor said softly. The absolute lack of volume in his voice was far more terrifying than a scream. "Get out of my kitchen."
"Connor, I'm your cousin—"
"If you are still standing in this kitchen in thirty seconds," Connor stepped closer, his shadow completely engulfing her, "I will personally revoke the lease on the apartment building I own that you live in rent-free. Move."
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Brenda turned pale, dropped her wine glass onto the counter, and bolted out the kitchen doorway toward the living room.
Connor took a deep, agonizing breath to steady his pulse. He picked up a heavy wooden cutting board from the counter, walked out of the kitchen, and stepped into the dining room where twenty of his wealthy, laughing relatives were dining on his dime.
