Chapter 9 - Why Lily Put on the Boxing Gloves
Lily's red gloves were not random.
Victor bought them six months earlier after Lily begged to learn boxing.
She liked training with him.
Footwork.
Balance.
Discipline.
Victor taught her one rule repeatedly:
“You never hit someone because you're angry. You hit only to protect yourself or get away.”
So why had Lily repeatedly struck Claire's fake belly?
Because Lily did not believe there was a baby inside.
And she needed everyone else to see that.
Three days before the party, Lily found the safe room.
She saw the real infant.
Sarah caught her.
Instead of threatening her, Sarah explained only enough:
Claire's belly wasn't real.
The baby must remain hidden.
Tell nobody.
Lily promised.
Then Eleanor discovered Lily knew something.
Eleanor questioned her aggressively.
Lily refused.
Eleanor called her a liar.
A bastard.
A dangerous child.
Lily became furious.
At the party, Claire publicly touched her fake belly and announced:
“She kicked.”
Guests applauded.
Lily stared.
Another adult lie.
She snapped.
Put on the gloves from her training bag.
And attacked the prosthetic.
Not a good decision.
Not a mastermind's plan.
An eight-year-old reaching the limit of secrets adults forced her to carry.
Victor understood.
He hugged her.
“You should've told me.”
“You wouldn't believe me.”
That hurt more than he expected.
“Why?”
“Grandma said grown-ups believe pretty women.”
Victor looked toward Eleanor.
Her cruelty had consequences beyond insults.
Lily had learned evidence mattered more than her voice.
So she created evidence physically.
The fake belly fell.
The lie became visible.
But Sarah now revealed something else.
Claire had not been ordered to fake the pregnancy solely by Vincent.
Someone inside the mansion helped enforce it.
Someone supplied prosthetics.
Scheduled appointments.
Fabricated ultrasound images.
Manipulated staff.
Eleanor?
No.
She knew pieces but not all.
Sarah produced payment records.
The organizer was one of Victor's four guards.
Marcus Reed.
Victor's longest-serving security officer.
Fifteen years.
The man standing behind him in the ballroom when he declared:
May you like
“No one touches my granddaughter.”
Marcus had been working for Vincent the entire time.
