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.

The cold air from the open doorway hit June's back. The blood drained from her face. Her heart skipped a painful beat.

Isaac shrugged off his black wool overcoat and handed it to a bodyguard. His sharp blue eyes swept across the room like a searchlight, taking in the shattered porcelain and the cracked television screen.

Tristan saw his father. It was like he had seen a savior. He scrambled off the sofa and sprinted across the room.

He threw his arms around Isaac's leg, burying his face in his father's trousers, and let out a heartbreaking wail. "Daddy! The bad woman hit me! She tried to kill me!"

Isaac's brow furrowed heavily. He looked down at his sobbing youngest son and placed a large hand on the boy's head to calm him.

June stood ten feet away. She locked her knees to keep them from shaking. She dug her fingernails into her palms, her mind spinning frantically for an excuse.

Cole turned his head slightly from his corner, shooting his father a look of silent, long-suffering victimhood.

Isaac's gaze slowly dragged across the room until it locked onto June. His eyes were completely dead, devoid of any human warmth.

He stepped forward. His leather shoes thudded heavily against the hardwood floor. Each step felt like a hammer striking June's chest.

The physical pressure of his approach made it hard to breathe, but she forced her chin up, refusing to look away.

Isaac stopped exactly one step away from her. His eyes flicked downward, landing on her right hand. The palm was still flushed red from the impact of the spanking.

Tristan peeked out from behind Isaac's leg. He flashed June a vicious, triumphant smile.

June saw the smirk. A hot spike of anger flared in her chest, but she bit her tongue, keeping her face blank.

Isaac spoke. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble. "You hit him." It wasn't a question.

June lifted her chin higher. "Yes. He smashed a Ming vase and the TV. He needed discipline."

Tristan shrieked from behind his father's leg. "I didn't! She yelled at me first, and I bumped into it by accident!"

Isaac didn't look down at Tristan. Instead, he turned his head toward the corner. "Cole. Come here."

Cole kept his head bowed as he walked over, looking like a terrified, obedient child.

"Why are you standing in the corner?" Isaac asked, his voice chilling.

Cole hesitated perfectly. "Mother said it was my fault for not stopping my brother," he said softly.

It was a brilliant manipulation. He confirmed his brother was at fault while painting June as an irrational tyrant who punished the innocent.

June let out a cold scoff, opening her mouth to tear his lie apart. The system's warning flashed in her eyes, forcing her jaw shut.

Isaac fell silent. The air in the room turned to ice. Everyone waited for the explosion, for Isaac to destroy her.

Instead, Isaac reached down. He grabbed the back of Tristan's collar and hoisted the boy up so they were eye-to-level.

His eyes were terrifyingly strict. "You destroy property, and then you lie to my face. Is this the standard I set for you?"

Tristan's fake crying choked off instantly. He stared at his father in pure terror, completely blindsided.

Isaac dropped him and turned to Cole. His tone grew even harsher. "And you. You stand by and watch, then try to deflect the blame. You are using your intellect for petty games."

Cole's face went completely white. His perfect mask was ripped away in a second.

Finally, Isaac turned back to June. His gaze flickered from her flushed face to Cole's rigid posture in the corner, then to the sly, fleeting look of triumph Tristan failed to hide. A complex, dark emotion swirled in his eyes.

His lips parted, and he delivered three words that shattered the room. "Well disciplined, June."

The hall fell into a dead, ringing silence.