Chapter 2 - The Scalding Iron
The polished marble floor of the drawing room slipped beneath Sarah’s worn shoes as she rounded the arched doorway, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Through the golden sunlight filtering through the crystal windows, she saw Victoria leaning over the white wooden crib. The iron in Victoria’s dark-gloved hand hissed violently, a cloud of scorching steam billowing down into the small space where six-month-old Leo lay flailing his tiny arms, his face flushed red, coughing desperately against the scalding heat.
"Get away from him!" Sarah screamed, her voice shattering the quiet dignity of the estate.
Victoria didn't jump. She slowly turned her head, her dark eyes cold, calculating, and entirely unbothered. A slow, cruel smirk crossed her lips as she raised the hot iron another inch, positioning the glowing metal plate dangerously close to the crib’s lace bumper.
"Mind your place, maid," Victoria purred, her voice dripping with venomous confidence. "I was merely pressing my scarf. Accidents happen when infants wriggle around."
Sarah didn't argue. She didn't hesitate. She threw her body between Victoria and the crib, her hands reaching out instinctively.
HISS!
The scalding metal plate of the iron grazed the back of Sarah’s right forearm. Pain exploded across her skin—a blinding, searing burn that made her vision flare white—but Sarah didn't let out a single sound. She grabbed the cord of the iron with her left hand and yanked it violently out of the wall socket, throwing the appliance onto the stone hearth near the fireplace.
She spun around, pulling baby Leo into her arms, pressing his soft cheek against her gray uniform, shielding his small body with her own. Leo sobbed into her neck, his breath coming in ragged, terrified gasps.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
Ethan’s sharp, authoritative voice echoed from the hallway. He stepped through the double doors, holding a thick stack of corporate legal papers, his blue eyes wide with shock as he took in the scene: the overturned iron smoking on the hearth, Sarah holding a red, crying infant, and Victoria standing nearby with her shimmering champagne-diamond gown slightly disheveled.
"Ethan!" Victoria instantly squealed, her expression transforming in a fraction of a second into one of helpless, tearful terror. She pressed her delicate hands against her chest, her lips trembling. "Thank God you’re here! I was just trying to smooth my lace scarf near the table, and Sarah... Sarah rushed in like a madwoman! She snatched the iron, swung it around, and almost burned little Leo!"
Ethan froze, his gaze shifting from Victoria’s tear-filled eyes down to Sarah.
"Sarah?" Ethan asked, his voice heavy with confusion and rising alarm. "Is this true? What happened in here?"
Sarah stood tall, despite the throbbing, agonizing pain burning across her right forearm. She cradled Leo gently, smoothing down his wisps of brown hair until his crying began to ease into quiet hiccups.
"Mr. Ethan," Sarah said, her voice steady, cold, and ringing with absolute truth. "Miss Victoria was holding that iron directly over Leo’s crib. She intentionally pressed the steam release into his face. Look at the crib bumpers—they are damp with hot condensation. Look at her gloves."
Victoria let out a dramatic, heartbroken gasp. "Ethan! How could she accuse me of such a monstrous thing?! I love Leo! I was only trying to keep him warm! She’s lying because she’s jealous of my place in your life! She wants you for herself!"
Ethan stepped forward, his face drawn tight with stress. He looked at the smoking iron on the hearth, then at Victoria, and finally at Sarah.
"Let me see his face," Ethan said softly, stepping up to Sarah.
Sarah carefully turned Leo toward his father. The baby’s cheeks were red from heat and tears, but his skin was unbroken. He reached out a tiny, trembling hand toward Ethan’s neck, whimpering softly.
Ethan took his son into his arms, kissing the top of the infant's head. "He’s breathing okay. He's not burned."
"Ethan, please," Victoria pleaded, wrapping her slender arms around Ethan’s elbow, leaning her head against his shoulder. "She’s dangerous. She almost burned me, too! You have to fire her immediately. She’s unstable!"
Ethan looked at Sarah, his eyes filled with a painful conflict. He trusted Sarah—she had cared for Leo with unmatched devotion since his wife passed—but Victoria was the daughter of Senator Vance, a powerful political ally whose backing Ethan desperately needed for his upcoming corporate merger.
"Sarah," Ethan said quietly, avoiding her eyes. "Go to the kitchen. Put some cold water on your arm. We will discuss this later."
"Mr. Ethan—" Sarah started.
"Kitchen. Now," Ethan commanded, his voice firm, though a flicker of guilt danced in his gaze.
Sarah held her breath, her jaw clenching tight. She looked at Victoria, who gave her a fleeting, microscopic wink of victory from behind Ethan’s shoulder.
May you like
Sarah bowed her head slightly. "Yes, sir."
She turned and walked back toward the kitchen, the burn on her arm throbbing with white-hot fury. But as she stepped through the doorway, her mind was crystal clear. Victoria wasn't just a rude socialite. She was a predator. And Sarah was going to tear down her pristine facade if it was the last thing she ever did.
