My life with Victoria, a tech mogul with billions, was a gilded cage. I was her house husband, an artist reduced to chores, all to stay close to Emily, seven, and Josh, five, my children. Her protégé, Liam, a smirking young man with hollow ambition, made every day hell, spilling wine for me to clean, complaining about my cooking, even shrugging when he killed our cat. Victoria saw my suffering and encouraged it. Then came the day that broke the world. Victoria brought Emily and Josh downstairs, both terrified. "Get in the crate," she commanded, pointing to a new dog crate. "And bark." My blood ran cold. "They' re children. You can' t do that," I whispered. But she grabbed them, dragging them towards the door. "If they can' t make it a few days in the urban park downtown, they' re too weak to be my children anyway," she snarled, then sped off, leaving me screaming on the driveway. Three days later, the detective called. They found Emily and Josh, two small bodies under a pile of cardboard, dead from exposure. That same evening, Victoria was at a charity auction, laughing and buying Liam a three-million-dollar car. My grief turned to cold, hard resolve. I walked onto the stage at the auction, holding the two small urns. "I' m not here to bid on a car," I announced. "I' m here to buy two souls." Victoria tried to pull me off the stage. "They' re dead, Victoria," I whispered, louder than any shout. "Emily and Josh. They' re dead." She called me insane, a liar. Liam played the brave protector, faking fear. The public bought their story, condemning me, a pathetic, unhinged husband. But they didn't know the truth. They didn't know about Liam's cruelty, or Victoria's chilling threats to send my children away, a threat that had kept me captive. Now, that threat was tragically meaningless. With nothing left to lose, I set my purpose. I began attending auctions, asking a strange question that would change everything. My family's old money, long ignored, would now become my weapon.
My life with Victoria, a tech mogul with billions, was a gilded cage.
I was her house husband, an artist reduced to chores, all to stay close to Emily, seven, and Josh, five, my children.
Her protégé, Liam, a smirking young man with hollow ambition, made every day hell, spilling wine for me to clean, complaining about my cooking, even shrugging when he killed our cat.
Victoria saw my suffering and encouraged it.
Then came the day that broke the world.
Victoria brought Emily and Josh downstairs, both terrified.
"Get in the crate," she commanded, pointing to a new dog crate. "And bark."
My blood ran cold.
"They' re children. You can' t do that," I whispered.
But she grabbed them, dragging them towards the door.
"If they can' t make it a few days in the urban park downtown, they' re too weak to be my children anyway," she snarled, then sped off, leaving me screaming on the driveway.
Three days later, the detective called.
They found Emily and Josh, two small bodies under a pile of cardboard, dead from exposure.
That same evening, Victoria was at a charity auction, laughing and buying Liam a three-million-dollar car.
My grief turned to cold, hard resolve.
I walked onto the stage at the auction, holding the two small urns.
"I' m not here to bid on a car," I announced. "I' m here to buy two souls."
Victoria tried to pull me off the stage.
"They' re dead, Victoria," I whispered, louder than any shout. "Emily and Josh. They' re dead."
She called me insane, a liar. Liam played the brave protector, faking fear.
The public bought their story, condemning me, a pathetic, unhinged husband.
But they didn't know the truth. They didn't know about Liam's cruelty, or Victoria's chilling threats to send my children away, a threat that had kept me captive.
Now, that threat was tragically meaningless.
With nothing left to lose, I set my purpose. I began attending auctions, asking a strange question that would change everything. My family's old money, long ignored, would now become my weapon.
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