Chapter 4 - The Son Who Ended His Mother’s Reign
Dr. Shah arrived within twenty minutes.
I remember fragments.
Warm blankets.
Roman’s hand gripping mine.
A fetal monitor against my stomach.
Someone saying the baby’s heartbeat was strong.
The relief that broke across Roman’s face when he heard it.
I remember crying then.
Not because I was weak.
Because I had held myself upright until someone finally told me I could stop.
Roman stayed beside me while Dr. Shah examined the cuts on my scalp.
“They were careless,” the doctor said quietly. “But there is no serious injury. The greater concern is stress, cold exposure, and dehydration.”
“Will she be all right?” Roman asked.
Dr. Shah looked at me, not him.
“Bianca needs rest, safety, and no further stress.”
Roman nodded.
“You have all three,” he said.
But I looked toward the hallway.
Celeste was still somewhere inside the mansion.
And I knew safety could not exist while she remained.
After the doctor left, Roman sat on the floor beside the bed.
His suit was soaked. Rainwater still darkened the shoulders of his coat. His hand rested carefully against my stomach.
“I am sorry,” he said.
I stared at him.
“You were not here.”
“I should have been.”
“You cannot control every moment.”
“No,” Roman said. “But I can control who has access to you.”
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then I whispered, “I want to leave.”
Roman’s face tightened.
“Tonight.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to wait until morning.”
“You won’t.”
He stood, made one phone call, and began giving instructions.
A private apartment in Manhattan.
New staff.
Independent security.
No Kane employees without my approval.
No contact from Celeste.
Then he walked downstairs.
I did not see what happened next.
But later, Elena told me.
Roman gathered every employee in the central hall.
The guards.
The drivers.
The house staff.
The men who had watched Celeste drag me downstairs.
The women who held me while she cut my hair.
He stood before them in silence.
Then he spoke.
“Every person who helped harm Bianca will leave this estate tonight.”
One guard tried to explain.
“Mr. Kane, your mother gave the order—”
Roman’s voice remained low.
“And you obeyed it.”
The guard looked down.
Roman continued.
“You were hired to protect this family. Instead, you protected cruelty because it came from someone powerful.”
He dismissed them all.
Not with violence.
Not with threats.
With consequences.
Their salaries ended. Their access ended. Their protection ended. Evidence of what happened was sent to police and prosecutors, including footage from the house cameras that Celeste had believed were disabled.
Then Roman turned to his mother.
Celeste stood in the center of the hall, still wearing her silk dress.
“You cannot do this,” she said.
“I can.”
“I am your mother.”
“You are the woman who hurt my wife and endangered my daughter.”
“You will regret humiliating me.”
Roman looked at her for a long moment.
“No,” he said. “I regret protecting you for too long.”
Celeste was removed from the estate that night.
Roman did not send her to prison himself. He did not need to.
The police investigation did its work.
The women who helped her cut my hair gave statements. Elena gave hers. The security footage showed the truth.
Celeste had spent decades believing the Kane name made her untouchable.
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But Roman had finally decided that family did not mean immunity.
It meant responsibility.
