Chapter 289
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Chapter 289:
Carmen grabbed her purse and took the elevator down. Parked at the curb was not a standard town car but a massive black armored SUV with tinted windows thick enough to stop a bullet.
The driver opened the heavy door. Carmen climbed in.
The interior smelled exactly like Justin — a sharp, clean blend of cedar and cold pine. Carmen’s heart gave a traitorous flutter. She crossed her legs and reminded herself firmly that she was doing this for Aaden.
The SUV navigated the city traffic and pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of the elite Upper East Side prep school. The street was lined with Maybachs and Bentleys. Private security guards checked invitations at the gate.
Carmen stepped out.
Justin was waiting for her on the sidewalk — not in a suit, but in a tailored khaki trench coat over a dark sweater. He looked devastatingly at ease, like a wealthy father simply waiting for his family.
He watched her walk toward him. His eyes moved over the beige knit dress, and a flash of raw heat sparked in his gaze before he quickly masked it.
“You look beautiful,” Justin said quietly.
He didn’t wait for a reply. He stepped to her side, placed his hand firmly against the small of her back, and guided her through the crowded courtyard.
𝗕𝖾 pа𝗿t 𝘰𝗳 𝘰𝘂𝗿 со𝘮𝗺𝗎𝗇𝘪𝘁𝘆 𝗼n.сo𝘮
The contact was light, but it carried the unmistakable weight of possession. Surrounded by other wealthy parents, walking beside this powerful man, Carmen felt a dangerous illusion settle over her.
For one brief, treacherous moment, she felt like they were a real family.
The backstage area of the school theater was a chaotic maze of props, running children, and stressed teachers.
Justin kept his hand on the small of Carmen’s back, guiding her expertly through the narrow, crowded hallway toward the boys’ dressing rooms.
As they approached a half-open door, the loud, cruel laughter of several boys echoed into the hall.
“Your dad is just a politician,” a high-pitched voice sneered. “My mom says you don’t even know who your real mother is. You’re just a bastard p>
Carmen stopped dead.
Through the gap in the door, she saw Aaden in his bulky silver plastic knight’s armor, head bowed, small fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white. His shoulders shook as he fought back tears. Three boys in expensive clothes surrounded him, pointing and laughing. The tallest — a blonde boy with a cruel smirk — shoved Aaden’s shoulder.
A violent, blinding rage exploded in Carmen’s chest.
The memory of her own childhood crashed over her — the cold foster homes, the older kids locking her in closets, the absolute helplessness of having no one to defend her.
She didn’t think. She shoved the heavy wooden door open. It hit the wall with a loud bang.
Her heels clicked sharply against the linoleum as she marched into the room. The air dropped ten degrees. She unleashed the full, terrifying authority of a Wall Street CFO on three small boys who had no idea what was coming.
The laughter died instantly. The three bullies looked up at the furious woman towering over them and went still.