Isaac slowly lowered his hand. He brought his thumb up and dragged it slowly across the pad of his index finger. It was a subtle movement, but the original host's memories screamed that it meant he was pushed to the edge.

June saw the gesture. A cold sweat broke out across the back of her neck. She instantly regretted slapping him.

Isaac lunged forward. He planted his hand on the edge of the desk right beside her hip, trapping her completely between his hard body and the solid wood.

He leaned down. His breath brushed across her cheek, smelling faintly of mint and expensive tobacco. It was an invasion of space that made her skin prickle.

June stopped breathing. She gripped the edge of the desk behind her, her knuckles turning white as she tried to press herself further into the wood to escape his heat.

Isaac used his free hand to pick up the divorce papers. He flipped through the first two pages, the corner of his mouth lifting into a cruel sneer.

He locked his blue eyes onto hers. His voice was terrifyingly soft. "Leaving with nothing? Since when did you become a martyr?"

June swallowed the lump of terror in her throat. She kept her chin tipped up. "Because I don't want to look at your face for one more second."

Isaac's eyes turned to absolute ice. He gripped the thick stack of papers with both hands.

June watched in stunned silence as he ripped the document straight down the middle. The sharp rip echoed in the quiet room.

Her eyes widened. The torn halves fluttered to the marble floor like dead leaves. Her brain flatlined.

Isaac crumpled the remaining page in his fist and tossed it over his shoulder. It hit the bottom of the metal wastebasket with a heavy thud.

He straightened his posture, looking down at her frozen expression. He calmly adjusted his platinum cufflinks.

"If you're unhappy with your current situation, you can negotiate anything else," Isaac stated, his tone devoid of emotion. "But there will be no divorce scandals in the Walton family."

Panic flared in June's chest. "What if I cheat on you?" she blurted out. "Would you divorce me then?"

Isaac's gaze snapped to hers. His hand shot out, his long fingers gripping her narrow waist. He yanked her forward.

Her chest crashed against his solid chest. She felt the hard lines of his muscles through his tailored suit. Her eyes blew wide in sheer panic.

Isaac leaned in, his voice vibrating against her collarbone. "Try it. I will make sure the man disappears in LA forever."

The raw violence in his eyes paralyzed her. She forgot to push him away. She just stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly against his.

Isaac released her waist abruptly, as if touching her disgusted him. He turned his back on her and walked toward the heavy study doors.

He pulled the door open and paused. He didn't look back. "We have a charity gala tonight. Put on your fake smile."

He walked out. The heavy door slammed shut behind him with a deafening bang that rattled the expensive paintings on the walls.

The suffocating pressure in the room vanished. June's knees gave out. She collapsed into Isaac's massive leather chair, her whole body shaking.

A cheerful chime echoed in her head. "Ding! Directive 'Serve Divorce Papers' has been executed. Target's response: Rejection. Lifespan reward issued."

June looked at the red numbers in her vision. Twenty-four hours were added. She let out a long, shaky breath. Her muscles felt like liquid.

She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling the frantic beating of her heart. Isaac was a terrifying control freak.

She looked down at the shredded paper on the floor. The marriage was a cage, and the door was welded shut.

A sudden, piercing shriek echoed from the hallway, followed by the violent crash of shattering glass.

June flinched, her shoulders jumping toward her ears. Before she could even stand up, the system's red warning lights flooded her vision.

"Ding! Side Quest triggered: Discipline the spoiled child, Tristan, in the main hall. Requirement: Spank him three times. Failure results in immediate lifespan deduction!"

June dropped her face into her hands and groaned in absolute despair.

June dragged her hands down her face, her fingers digging into her skin. She physically recoiled at the thought of hitting a child, especially Tristan, the little terror of the house.

The red countdown timer in her eyes began to flash violently. A sharp, electrical sting bit into the base of her skull, forcing her muscles to move.

She gritted her teeth and pushed the study door open. Her heels clicked against the marble as she walked toward the chaos in the main hall.

Just as she reached the edge of the living room, a priceless Ming dynasty vase shattered into a thousand pieces less than two feet from her shoes.

June jumped back. A sharp piece of porcelain sliced across her calf, leaving a thin, stinging line of red.

She snapped her head up. Five-year-old Tristan was standing on top of the custom Italian sofa, holding a heavy crystal ashtray above his head.

Seven-year-old Cole stood on the landing of the grand staircase. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his face an emotionless mask as he watched the destruction.

Tristan saw June. Instead of freezing, his face twisted into a bratty sneer. He hurled the crystal ashtray straight at the massive flat-screen TV.

The impact sounded like a gunshot. The screen spider-webbed into black cracks. Tristan threw his head back and let out a high-pitched, triumphant laugh.

Three maids were huddled in the corner near the dining room, physically trembling, too terrified to intervene.

June stared at the ruined room. A very real, very hot surge of anger rushed up her spine. This was her house now.

Cole looked down from the stairs. His voice was perfectly polite, but entirely devoid of warmth. "Good morning, Mother."

June looked up. She caught the dark, mocking gleam in Cole's eyes. He was waiting for her to lose her mind.

She realized instantly that Cole wasn't just watching. He was enabling his brother's meltdown just to trigger her.

Tristan pointed a small finger at her from the sofa. "Go back to your room, you old witch! I don't want to look at you!"

June inhaled slowly. She ignored the system's demand for a dramatic, screaming fit. Her face turned to stone.

She didn't scream. She didn't throw a tantrum. She stepped forward, her heels crunching over the broken glass and porcelain.

The steady, rhythmic sound of her steps echoed in the massive hall. The sheer calm radiating from her felt heavy and dangerous.

Tristan's laughter died. He lowered his arm, his eyes widening as she approached without a single word.

Cole frowned. His fingers twitched inside his pockets. This wasn't the reaction he had calculated.

June reached the sofa. Without a second of hesitation, her hand shot out and clamped around Tristan's wrist like a vice.

Tristan yelped in pain. He dropped the throw pillow he was holding.

He immediately started thrashing, twisting his small body wildly like a feral cat, snapping his teeth toward the back of her hand.

June was faster. Her free hand grabbed the back of his collar. She flipped him over and pinned him face-down across the back of the sofa.

Tristan panicked. He kicked his legs in the air, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Let me go! I'm going to tell Daddy to fire you!"

Cole couldn't maintain his act anymore. He rushed down the stairs, lowering his shoulder to physically shove June away from his brother.

June caught his movement in her peripheral vision. She snapped her head toward him, her eyes blazing with a terrifying intensity.

She pointed a single finger right at Cole's face. Her voice was as cold as crushed ice. "Step back, Cole. It's not your turn yet."

Cole froze. The sheer authority in her voice hit him like a wall. He stopped in his tracks, his fists clenching tightly at his sides.

Having neutralized the older brother, June turned her attention back to the thrashing child pinned under her hand. She raised her right hand high into the air, aiming straight for Tristan's backside.

June stared at Tristan's squirming back. She took a deep breath, and brought her right hand down hard.

Smack!

The sharp, stinging sound cracked through the massive hall. It landed squarely on Tristan's backside.

Tristan's screaming cut off instantly. He gasped, his eyes going wide with absolute shock. He couldn't believe she had actually hit him.

"Ding! Progress 1/3." the system's cold voice counted in her head.

June's heart hammered against her ribs. Her palm stung from the impact. She knew if she hesitated, she would lose the nerve.

She locked her jaw. She raised her hand and brought it down twice more in rapid succession. Smack! Smack!

"Ding! Task completed. 24 hours of lifespan rewarded," the system chimed, the pain in her head vanishing.

A second of dead silence hung in the air. Then, Tristan erupted. He let out a wail ten times louder than before, tears and snot instantly covering his face.

He rolled onto his back on the sofa, kicking his legs and screaming. "It hurts! I'm telling Daddy! I'm going to make him kill you!"

June released her grip on his shirt. She looked down at him with cold detachment. She reached over to the coffee table and pulled a tissue from the silver box, wiping her hands.

She tossed the crumpled tissue into the trash bin. She looked down at Tristan. "Go ahead and tell him. But until he gets home, you will keep your mouth shut."

Tristan hiccuped, terrified by the absolute ice in her tone. His screams dialed down to a loud, angry sob, glaring at her through wet eyelashes.

June turned her back on him. She locked her eyes onto Cole, who was still standing frozen near the stairs.

Cole immediately dropped his hostile stare. He widened his eyes, putting on a mask of innocent concern. "Mother, Tristan is just having a bad day..."

June let out a harsh, bitter laugh, cutting him off completely. "Save the performance, Cole."

Cole's face went rigid. His pupils contracted slightly. He wasn't used to adults seeing through his act.

June took a step toward him, dropping her voice to a low murmur. "You think I don't see it? You purposely wound him up so he'd take the fall while you watched the show."

Cole took a half-step back. His hands gripped the seams of his pants tightly. His breathing hitched.

June pointed to a blank section of the wall in the far corner of the hall. Her tone left absolutely no room for argument. "Go over there. Time-out."

Cole jerked his head up, his eyes flashing with disbelief. He was the genius heir of the Walton family. He didn't do time-outs.

He bit his lower lip and planted his feet, refusing to move, challenging her authority with total silence.

June crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm going to count to three. If you aren't facing that wall, dinner is canceled for both of you tonight."

"One." June said, her voice flat.

Cole glanced at his crying brother, his mind racing to calculate the odds.

"Two." June said, her eyes narrowing.

Right as she opened her mouth to say three, Cole's shoulders slumped. He had lost.

He dragged his feet across the floor, walking slowly to the corner. He turned around, pressing his nose toward the blank wall.

June looked at Cole in the corner and Tristan sniffling on the couch. She let out a long, exhausted breath.

She turned to the terrified maids. "Clean this up. And neither of them gets a drop of water until their punishment is over."

Just as the words left her mouth, the heavy double doors of the main entrance were shoved open. Isaac strode into the hall, surrounded by bodyguards, bringing a wave of freezing outside air with him. "I forgot the Henderson file," he announced to his head of security, his deep voice cutting through the tension before his eyes suddenly landed on the chaos.