Chapter 4: The Photos Don't Lie
Dr.
Reyes arrived in under four minutes.
He was a compact, quiet man who asked no unnecessary questions.
He examined Ethan's arm with practiced hands while Victor stood close and Lily sat on the bottom step of the grand staircase, pressing her palm against her ribs.
"Partial dislocation," Dr.
Reyes said.
"The joint.
I can reduce it here — it's a common injury in young children, unfortunately." He paused.
"How did this happen?"
Nobody answered immediately.
"She fell," Serena said from across the foyer.
"He was running and he fell."
Dr.
Reyes looked at the angle of the injury.
He looked at Victor.
He said nothing more, but he didn't look at Serena again either.
While the doctor worked, Marcus — Victor's head of security, a broad-shouldered man with a scar along his jaw — stood near the door and waited.
Ethan cried when his arm was reset.
A sharp, short cry, then silence.
Then, slowly, he turned his face into Victor's shoulder and went still.
Victor's hand moved to the back of the boy's head.
"Lily," he said.
"The photos."
Lily unlocked her phone and opened the folder.
Forty-one images.
Dated, timestamped, some with location data still attached.
She had been careful.
She had been terrified, and careful, and she had documented every single time.
She handed the phone to Victor.
He scrolled.
His expression didn't change, but his breathing did — a slow, controlled deepening that was somehow worse than anger.
"Victor, whatever she's shown you has been manipulated," Serena said.
Her voice was back to its smooth register.
"She has a basic phone.
These could have been taken anywhere, edited to show—"
"This one," Victor said, "was taken in this room.
I can see the crack in the baseboard behind Ethan's left shoulder.
I've been meaning to have it repaired for three months."
Silence.
"This one was taken in his nursery.
I recognize the mobile above the crib.
I chose it." He looked up.
"This one was taken the day I flew to Geneva.
I remember the date because I called home that evening and you told me Ethan had been perfect all day."
Serena said nothing.
"You told me," Victor repeated, "that he'd been perfect."
"Children bruise easily.
She was documenting normal—"
"Marcus." Victor handed Lily's phone back to her.
"Make sure Ms.
Montigue doesn't leave the property until my attorney arrives."
Serena's composure finally broke — not into tears, but into something sharper.
"You cannot do this to me.
Do you understand who my father is?
Do you understand what he will do when I call him?
You think this ends with you sending me away?
You think I don't have documentation of my own — about you, about your business, about every arrangement your family has made for the last twenty years?"
The room held its breath.
Victor handed Ethan carefully to Lily.
He walked toward Serena slowly.
He stopped two feet away from her.
"Are you threatening me?" he said.
Serena held his gaze.
Her chin was still up.
Her hand was still near her bag.
"I'm reminding you," she said, "of the reality of your situation."
Victor nodded once, as if she had confirmed something he already knew.
"Marcus," he said, without turning around.
"She made a call or sent a message in the last fifteen minutes.
Find out who she contacted."
Serena's hand moved toward her bag.
Marcus was faster.
The second phone was on the foyer table before Serena could reach it.
She stared at it.
May you like
Then she looked at Lily — and the expression on her face was no longer fear.
It was a promise.
