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“For now, we need to carry out our investigations,” he said firmly, gathering his papers back into the folder. His gaze locked between Nico and Noah. “And we’ll need you all to cooperate fully.”

Nico gave a curt nod, his arm still wrapped protectively around his son.

The detective extended his hand. “Take good care of them, Mr. Bellamy.”

Nico clasped it firmly, his grip strong.

“I will,” Nico said, his voice low.

With a final glance toward Noah, the detective adjusted his coat. “I’ll leave now.”

He turned for the door, the echo of his footsteps lingering in the heavy silence of the study.

Red was waiting in the hallway when the study door creaked open.

Her arms were folded, her expression taut with restrained questions.

Nico stepped out, closing the door behind him.

His eyes were still storm-dark.

“What did he say?” Red asked immediately, her voice low but sharp with urgency.

Nico exhaled slowly, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “Dr. Smith isn’t who she claims to be. She’s been after us for years—long before I even knew Noah existed.”

Red’s eyes widened, her lips parting in disbelief, then pressing into a thin line. After a beat, she shook her head. “Then we can’t just sit back and hand her over to the police. Not without evidence.”

Nico frowned. “What are you suggesting?”

“Why don’t we go to Noah’s school?” Red leaned in, her voice steady but laced with determination. “If she posed as a teacher there, someone has to know. Someone must have seen something. We’ll find proof—proof that ties her to all of this.”

Nico studied her for a long moment, the tension in his jaw slowly giving way to reluctant agreement.

“You’re right,” he muttered. “We need something solid… something that will bury her.”

Red bumped her shoulder into Nico’s arm, a mischievous smirk curling her lips.
“Tag—I’m your genius wife,” she teased, eyes sparkling.

Nico turned his head slowly, smiling sweetly at her. “My genius wife, hm?” His voice dropped lower, thar did something to her stomach.

He stepped closer, crowding her against the wall, one hand braced above her head, the other trailing slowly along her waist. “You don’t get to just say things like that… not without consequences.”

Red blinked, her breath stopping. “Consequences?”

Nico leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “Mm. Romantic ones.” His teeth grazed lightly at her skin, his breath warm. “Maybe even a little… dangerous.”

Her laugh came out nervous, breathy. “Nico—”

He cut her off with a deep possesive kiss—tongues dangling When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip.

“Careful,” he murmured, eyes gleaming with heat. “Because every time you call yourself my wife… I want to make it real in every way possible.”

Red leaned her back against the wall her eyes gleaming with mischief. Slowly, she lifted her hands and signed, Can we get a room so you can ? Her brows lifted suggestively, the tease clear in her gaze.

Nico froze, then let out a quiet groan. He signed back with exaggerated desperation: Yes. Yes. Yes. Each motion big and clumsy, like a man begging for mercy.

Then he dropped his hands and gave her the most pitiful look imaginable—wide, pleading eyes, lips pushed into a pout, like an oversized baby.

Red stifled a laugh, biting her lower lip as the tension between them thickened.

And then—

“Mommy! Daddy!” Noah’s cheerful little voice burst into the room, shattering the spell. He ran in, clutching his toy, eyes shining with excitement. “Please come play with me!”

Both Nico and Red froze mid-stare, caught like guilty teenagers.

Nico dropped his head back against the wall with a groan. “Kid, your timing is criminal.”

Red burst out laughing, sweeping Noah up into her arms and kissing his cheek. “Of course, baby. Playtime first.” Then she shot Nico a wicked glance over Noah’s shoulder, her smile promising later.

Nico ruffled his son’s hair, resigned but smiling. “Alright, champ. Let’s play.”

Just a few steps back in the corridor, Dr. Smith stood in the shadow of the archway.

Her eyes lingered on the scene inside—the boy’s laughter, Red’s soft kiss on his cheek, Nico’s protective arm wrapped around his son.

“Awwn… happy family,” she whispered under her breath, her tone mocking but her smile cold.

With a slow breath, she adjusted the strap of her worn bag higher onto her shoulder, tugging it into place .

Then, without another glance, she turned on her heel.

Her footsteps carried her out of the mansion’s halls, down the grand stairwell, and eventually through the gates.

By the time she reached the streets, the world around her had changed—expensive marble replaced by cracked pavement, glittering chandeliers by flickering street lamps.

She pulled her coat tighter against her body, blending seamlessly into the gritty part of town .

Dr. Smith’s heels snapped against the cracked pavement until she stopped in front of a rusted steel door tucked between two crumbling buildings.

She glanced over her shoulder once, then rapped three quick knocks.

The door creaked open just enough for a pair of sharp eyes to peer through. A man’s voice growled, “You’re late.”

Her composure cracked—eyes watering, lips trembling as she whispered, “I’m sorry… I’m late.”

Before she could finish, a rough hand shot out, gripping her arm. With one brutal yank, he pulled her hard into the dim, smoke-filled room.

The door slammed shut behind her, cutting off the outside light.

“You think sorry covers it?” the man’s voice was low, dangerous.

Dr. Smith swallowed hard, her heartbeat slamming against her ribs, as shadows closed around her.

The man’s grip tightened, his fingers snaking into Dr. Smith’s hair. With one vicious tug, he yanked her head back, forcing her to meet his cold stare.

“What brings you here?” he hissed, voice like gravel.

Tears pricked her eyes as she whimpered, “I’m sorry… I—I don’t know if we should continue this. Maybe we should—”

Her words cut short when his hand clamped over her mouth. “Shut up,” he snarled, shoving her back.

She stumbled, hitting the ground hard, palms scraping against the dusty floorboards. Pain shot up her wrist, but before she could gather herself, the sound pierced the tense silence—

A little girl’s cry.

“Mommy!”

A tiny figure peeked out from a crooked door down the hall, her small face streaked with sleep and confusion.

The child’s voice trembled as she stepped out, clutching a ragged doll to her chest.

The man’s head snapped toward the girl, jaw tightening, while Dr. Smith’s whole body stiffened in terror.