My Stepmother Forced Me to Scrub the Floors but My Father Returned Early

The Mask Slips

The silence in the foyer was deafening. Patricia stammered, her flawless composure shattering under Edward's piercing gaze. She took a step toward him, hands fluttering nervously.

"Edward, sweetheart, it’s not what it looks like," she lied smoothly, trying to chuckle. "Hannah and I were just... playing a little game. She wanted to understand the hard work our staff goes through. She insisted on helping!"

Hannah shook her head violently, clutching the wet scrubbing brush. "That's not true, Dad," she whispered, her voice trembling. "She took my phone, locked me out of my room, and told me if I didn't clean the entire house by tonight, she would convince you to disown me. She said you hated me."

Edward’s jaw clenched so tightly that a vein throbbed in his temple. He walked past Patricia as if she were invisible, kneeling down on the damp marble floor next to his daughter. Without a word, he took the harsh scrubbing brush from Hannah’s hands and tossed it aside. Gently, he took off his expensive tuxedo jacket and wrapped it around her shivering shoulders, pulling her into a protective embrace.

"I am so sorry, sweetheart," Edward whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I should have never left you alone with her."

Standing up, Edward turned to face Patricia. The warmth in his eyes was completely gone, replaced by a freezing rage. Patricia tried to regain her footing, lifting her chin defiantly.

"Edward, you cannot believe her! She is a troubled girl, always looking for attention. I have been nothing but a perfect wife to you!"

Edward pulled a sleek tablet from his briefcase and held it up. On the screen was a live feed of the foyer, capturing the entire interaction.

"I didn't come home early by accident, Patricia," Edward revealed coldly. "I installed a discreet security system last week to ensure the estate was safe. I saw everything you did to my daughter. And now, you are going to pay."