My son’s fiancée cut my hair in the garden and mocked me—unaware my billionaire son had just returned home early and seen everything.

marble, Serena standing above me.

Then he saw the blood.

The garden seemed to lose its warmth entirely.

Serena’s hand paused mid-air, scissors lifted. For a split second, panic broke through her face—then she smoothed it instantly into a practiced, harmless smile.

“Oh, Damian! Baby! Perfect timing,” Serena chirped, slipping the heavy scissors behind her continue reading …