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.

June stared at Isaac, completely paralyzed. The words "Well disciplined" echoed in her brain, short-circuiting her thoughts. She forgot to fix her face into a scowl.

Isaac waves his hand dismissively at the head butler. "Take them upstairs to wash up. They are confined to their rooms until I say otherwise."

The boys shot June looks of pure venom before slumping their shoulders and following the butler up the grand staircase.

The hall emptied in seconds. Only June and Isaac remained, standing amidst the wreckage of the vase.

Isaac shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the back of the sofa. He reached up and slowly loosened his silk tie as he walked toward her.

The cold, detached CEO mask was gone. In its place was a raw, predatory energy that made the hair on June's arms stand up.

Her survival instinct kicked in. She took a step backward, but her spine hit the solid wood of the staircase banister. She was trapped.

Isaac closed the distance. He planted one large hand on the banister right beside her waist, caging her in.

He tilted his head down. His eyes roamed over her face, dissecting every micro-expression.

"You used to treat them like fragile glass just to play the role of the perfect, loving mother," Isaac said, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating with pressure."But today, you hit him. Tell me, June, what new script are you writing?"

June's heart slammed against her ribs. He knew. He knew she was acting differently. If he figured out she wasn't the real June, she was dead.

"Warning!" the system shrieked. "Identity compromise imminent. Execute 'Brainless Drama' defense protocol immediately!"

June clenched her jaw. She forced the panic out of her eyes and replaced it with a look of utter, bored annoyance.

She rolled her eyes dramatically and let out a loud huff. "A script? You give them too much credit."

She lifted her hand and poked her index finger hard against the solid muscle of his chest, trying to push him back. "They were giving me a headache, and I have a SPA appointment to get to."

Isaac didn't budge. Instead, his hand shot up and caught her finger. He wrapped his large palm around her hand, holding it flat against his chest.

His skin was burning hot. The heat seared through her skin, making her fingers tremble. She tried to yank her hand back, but his grip was iron.

Isaac's eyes darkened with a strange, dangerous amusement. "Is that so? You broke your carefully crafted image over a massage?"

He lifted his free hand. His long fingers reached toward her face. He gently caught a loose curl of hair that had fallen against her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.

The gesture was shockingly intimate. The rough pad of his thumb brushed against her sensitive earlobe. A violent shiver ripped through June's entire body.

Isaac leaned in closer, his lips hovering inches from her ear. His voice was a rough whisper. "You're acting very strange lately, June. So strange... it's almost a pleasant surprise."

The word "surprise" hit June like a physical blow. Her stomach dropped. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

Pure panic gave her a burst of adrenaline. She shoved both hands hard against his chest, breaking his hold.

She spun around and bolted up the stairs as fast as her heels would allow, her injured calf throbbing in sharp, stinging protest with every step she took, though she didn't stop.

She glanced over her shoulder, throwing out a desperate, defensive line. "Don't touch me! You ruined my hair!"

Isaac stood at the bottom of the stairs. He didn't chase her.

He slowly lifted the hand that had touched her hair. He rubbed his thumb and index finger together, a slow, deeply possessive smirk curving his lips.

June reached the second-floor landing and slammed her back against the wall. She gasped for air, her heart threatening to crack her ribs.

She closed her eyes in despair. Her stupid, shallow excuse hadn't fooled him at all. It had only made the predator more interested in the prey.