The heavy oak double doors of the Sterling mansion swung open with a resounding bang, the deep echo vibrating across the polished white marble floor. Sunlight streamed into the grand foyer, illuminating the crystal chandeliers and a towering United States flag hanging against the bright wall. In the center of the room, a young maid in a black uniform and stained white apron sat on the cold floor, sobbing hysterically as she held a crying infant tight against her chest.
Grandmother: Look at you, pathetic little girl, making a scene in my foyer!
Maid: Please, ma'am... I just needed help... she’s running a fever!
Grandmother: A servant carrying a illegitimate bastard doesn't deserve to live under this roof. Throw her out on the street!
The elderly woman sneered coldly, pressing her silver walking cane into the marble floor. Around her stood high-society family members dressed in luxury black formalwear, watching the helpless girl with total indifference. None of them moved a finger to help. Blood trickled down the maid’s split lip, staining her white headband, and her eyes were red from crying. But before the security guards could grab her arms, fast, furious footsteps echoed down the grand winding staircase.
Ethan: Get your hands off her right now!
Grandmother: Ethan? What are you doing back from the boardroom early?
Ethan: Who touched her?! Who did this to her?!
Ethan rushed past the giant American flag, his dark suit jacket unbuttoned and his white shirt open at the collar. He dropped to his knees on the hard stone next to the maid, his hands shaking as he grabbed her trembling shoulders. He stared at her bruised face in total disbelief, his chest heaving as he took in her bloodied mouth and tears.
Maid: Ethan... Please... Please don't let them hurt my baby!
Grandmother: Stop making a fool of yourself, Ethan! She's just a hired maid who snuck her bastard into our house!
Ethan stood up abruptly, placing his broad frame directly between the weeping maid and the wealthy crowd. His jaw clenched so tight a vein bulged on his neck, and his dark eyes burned with deadly fury as he glared at his own family.
Ethan: You just signed your own death warrants.
He turned back toward the maid, leaning down to scoop her and the newborn up into his arms, pulling them tight against his chest. As she clung to his suit, trembling, Ethan raised his head to face the shocked relatives staring at him, his voice dropping to a terrifying, ice-cold whisper that promised complete destruction.