The room went icy cold. Vanessa froze, her finger hovering over the “Call” button. She forced a smile. “David, thank god you’re here! This… this woman struck our son! I saw it!”
David didn’t say a word. He walked past his wife and knelt down to the Nanny, Maria, who was trembling on the floor. He gently placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, then stood up to face Vanessa.
“You saw it?” David asked, his voice dangerously low. He turned the iPad screen toward her. “Because I saw it too. I was watching the livestream from the office.”
On the screen, clear as day, was the recording from five minutes ago. It showed Vanessa deliberately tripping the child to make him cry, then blaming Maria when she rushed to help him.
“David, wait, I can explain—” Vanessa stammered, backing away.
“You can explain it to your lawyer,” David said, handing Maria a handkerchief. “You’re fired, Vanessa. Not as my wife—that paperwork comes later—but as a mother. Get out of my house.”
As the security guards escorted the screaming socialite out of the mansion, the little boy stopped crying, safe in the arms of the only person who had ever truly cared for him.
