Kill Them With Kindness: Reclaiming My Empire

My son disappeared on the nanny's watch at three months old. Five years later, I pulled him out of an orphanage. Guilt ate me alive.

I walked away from my career, locked myself in the house, and spent over a decade hovering over his every breath. It paid off. He became the youngest piano prodigy on the globe.

Soldout tours. Standing ovations. And me? My kidneys gave out. My heart started failing. Years of running myself into the ground took the bill.

I lay on those stiff hospital sheets, waiting for my family to sign the surgical consent forms and pay the deposit. The phone buzzed. It was Hunter.

My fingers trembled as I pressed the speaker button.

He didn't ask how I was. "You toxic bitch," his voice spat through the line. "If it weren't for you, I'd be with my real mother." Bile burned the back of my throat.

He blamed me for stealing his childhood. For suffocating him with piano lessons. For ruining his shot with his high school sweetheart.

Malcolm never even walked through the hospital doors. The clock ticked down. The surgical window closed. I flatlined, my medical bills sitting unpaid on the bedside table.

That same day, my husband, Malcolm, updated his socials. A photo of three people grinning at the camera: Malcolm, Hunter, and Britney.

The caption? [Our family, finally whole.] I hovered as a ghost, forced to watch them dump my ashes into a storm drain. The gray powder mixed with trash and sludge.

Then I watched them hunt down Ezra. My real, biological son. They stripped him of everything, ground him into the dirt, and left him to bleed out on the pavement.

A sharp intake of breath. The smell of bleach and old wood hit my nose. I blinked, and the storm drain was gone. I was standing in the middle of the orphanage.

My nails dug into my palms until the skin nearly broke. My gaze locked onto Hunter. This time, I’d shield him with my life. I’d pour every ounce of my soul into him. As for Hunter?

If he wants to cut class, hook up, get into brawls, or end up behind bars, I’ll personally hold the door open for him.

Chapter 1 "Ma'am…" the little boy mumbled, cowering behind the orphanage director. His wide eyes stared at me, brimming with curiosity and a desperate kind of longing.

My nails dug into my palms to stop my arms from snatching him into a crushing hug. I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced my voice steady. "It's okay, sweetheart.

Don't be scared. Let me look at you." He tentatively reached out a chubby hand. I gripped it tight.

I looked up at the director. "I'm adopting this boy too." Malcolm frowned. "Hunter is our real son." I gave the DNA report in his hand a dismissive glance. "I know that.

I'm just worried Hunter won't adjust to a new environment right away. Having a familiar playmate around will be good for him. You don't mind, do you, honey?" "No!

Dad, I want to be your only son!" Hunter yelled, pointing a finger at Malcolm.

In my past life, I was too blind, too drunk on the relief of finding my lost child to notice the glaring truth. Their tone. The casual familiarity between Malcolm and Hunter.

It wasn't the hesitation of strangers meeting for the first time. The DNA report was a fake. Pure garbage. Hunter had likely been dropped off here just for this little performance.

I narrowed my eyes, studying the boy. A warm, plastic smile stretched across my face. "Hunter, Daddy and I were planning to give you a little brother anyway.

If we bring this one home, we can be a family of four forever. Doesn't that sound nice?" A real biological heir was a threat. A random orphan was not.

The fiveyearold’s eyes darted around, flashing a dark, calculating glint that didn't belong on a child. Britney had clearly trained him well.

He grabbed my hand, putting on a sickeningly sweet whine. "Then promise you won't have any real babies, Mommy." I crouched down.

I wrapped one arm securely around my real son, and with my free hand, I took Hunter's. "It's a deal." As for Malcolm, the tension visibly drained from his shoulders.

His parents had been breathing down our necks for a second child. By this point, we would have been forced to start trying.

He didn't want another legitimate heir splitting his wealth.

In my previous life, when he handed over every cent of our assets to Britney and Hunter, he made his stance perfectly clear. "From beginning to end, I only ever wanted the best for you two." Chapter 2 On the drive back, Malcolm kept his jaw locked tight.

The silent treatment. In the past, that silence would make my stomach drop.

I’d bend over backwards to appease him, and he’d just scoff at my efforts. "Childish," he’d say. "Boring." Even "dumb bitch." Back then, I ate it all up like candy.

Now, I just flipped through the fake DNA report, acting like I was deep in thought. I pinched the bridge of my nose a few times. It broke his stoic facade.

He kept darting nervous glances in the rearview mirror. Hunter claimed the middle of the backseat.

He draped his arms over the center console, chatting up a storm with Malcolm, pinning Ezra against the passenger door. I lowered the papers. "Hunter.

If you want to talk to your dad, trade seats with your brother." He shot Ezra a dirty look. He dragged his feet as he stood, letting Ezra slide in behind my seat.

Then, he slumped back and stuck his bottom lip out. Tears pooled in his eyes, wobbling on his lashes like I had just slapped him. He looked exactly like the woman in the photo.

I looked right past him. I reached back and squeezed Ezra’s cold fingers. "Ezra, Hunter just came home to us today. He’s just a little overexcited, he didn't mean to squash you.

We can let it slide, right?" Ezra gave a small nod, his fingers curling tight around mine. Hunter dropped the crying act when I didn't take the bait.

He reached across the seat and swatted our hands apart. "Mom! I'm your real son. Why are you treating him better?" Malcolm’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, heavy with blame.

Bile rose in my throat. I forced it down and plastered on a warm smile. "That’s exactly why I have to say it, Hunter. You’re our boy.

You could get away with murder and we’d still spoil you. You hold all the cards. But your brother? He’s in a strange place.

We have to roll out the red carpet so he feels like this is a real family. Right?" I leaned hard on the word "real," shifting my gaze to Malcolm's reflection.

Malcolm blinked, tearing his eyes away from the mirror. He gave a stiff nod. Hunter opened his mouth to whine again, but without his backup, he just crossed his arms and slouched.

The second we stepped through the front door, Hunter sprinted straight into the nursery I had spent weeks preparing.

Ezra stayed glued to the entryway rug, his chin tucked to his chest, shoulders hunched up to his ears.

I closed the distance and wrapped my arms around him. "Ezra, look around," I kept my voice soft, letting my body heat warm his stiff frame. "We have plenty of rooms.

You point to the one you want, and I'll make it yours." He pointed to the guest room right next to the master suite. It was the smallest one in the house.

He looked up, his big eyes locking onto mine. "I want to be close to you." A hot tightness gripped my chest. I stayed up all night, firing off emails to interior designers.

I ordered the best of the best—custom furniture, brandname clothes, the latest iPads, limitededition legos.

Malcolm sat rigid on the living room sofa, his brows pulling into a sharp V as he watched me type away on my laptop. I tilted my head. "Honey? Our son came home today.

Why the long face?" "You’re doing too much for Ezra." His voice was flat, carrying a cold edge. "Hunter is our flesh and blood. He comes first.

Always." A wave of nausea hit me so hard I tasted copper. I swallowed it down. "Of course. Isn't that why we hustle so hard?

For our son?" I held his gaze. "I’m going to give him the absolute best of everything." The tension leaked out of Malcolm’s shoulders. He leaned back into the cushions.

He paused for a beat. "Now that Hunter is home, you should step back from the company. Focus on raising him." In my past life, I had jumped at the idea.

I had handed over my keys and never looked at the company ledgers again. Chapter 3 In my past life, Malcolm had gone behind my back and handed Britney my Vice President title.

He funneled out our assets. He even scraped the last few hundred bucks out of my checking account, leaving me to rot in that hospital bed and watch my own heartbeat flatline.

I kept my face blank, burying the urge to claw his eyes out. "The new government contracts are about to launch. The board needs me there.

Once they stabilize, I'll start phasing myself out." He scowled, but didn't push.

He snatched his car keys off the kitchen island. "I have things to handle at the office." He used that same excuse for a lifetime.

Back then, whenever I questioned it, he'd flip the script. "Victoria, I bust my ass out there to put food on this table! If you can't be grateful, at least don't question me.

Who the hell do you think you are?" I used to worship the ground he walked on. One raised voice, and I folded. I didn't realize it was just his guilt talking.

This time, I didn't flinch. "Mhm," I murmured, turning my back and walking straight toward Ezra's room. Malcolm paused at the door. His grip tightened on the handle. Funny.

Now that I wasn't fighting him, he didn't know what to do with himself. The next morning, the house was a war zone.

Hunter ignored the sunnysideup eggs on his own plate, stabbing his fork toward Ezra's breakfast. "I'm the master of this house. You're just my dog, you hear me?

Dogs listen to their masters. You eat when I say you eat!" I stepped in from my morning run. Malcolm sat at the head of the table, sipping his coffee, letting it happen.

The nanny stood in the corner, wringing her hands. I slammed my sweaty wristbands onto the dining table. The ceramic plates rattled. "Hunter.

Apologize to your brother." Hunter looked at his dad. He stuck his chin out and ignored me. "Apologize.

Do not make me say it a third time." Malcolm grabbed a napkin and dabbed his mouth. "Kids fight.

Stop making a federal case out of it." I pointed straight at Hunter. "Your son just called another human being a dog. You aren't parenting him, you're enabling him.

He calls Ezra a dog today, who is he going to curse out tomorrow? You want to send him to school like this?

When the principal calls, are you going to be the one dealing with it?" Malcolm's jaw locked. "You're stretching. He just got here.

He'll learn." He checked his Rolex. "You done eating? We can't be late for registration." I didn't budge. I rapped my knuckles against the wood, holding Malcolm's stare.

He cleared his throat. "Hunter. Say sorry to your brother." Hunter crossed his arms. He glued his eyes to the wall.

Ezra tugged at the hem of my shirt. "Mom… I don't blame him…" "Fake," Hunter spat, still refusing to look at us. I let my face go entirely blank. I stared a hole through him.

Malcolm knew I wouldn't drop this. "Hunter," he snapped. Like a switch had been flipped, the tears started. They rolled down Hunter's cheeks in thick, continuous drops.

He slowly dragged his tearfilled eyes toward me and Ezra. "Sorry." He shot out of his chair and bolted for the door.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe a fiveyearold was capable of that level of manipulation. No wonder years of my life went down the drain trying to fix him.

He was rotten to the core. "Are you happy now?" Malcolm’s voice was ice, his eyes narrowed like he wanted to wring my neck. Chapter 4 I ignored him.

I pulled Ezra into my arms, turned my back on the dining room, and headed straight for the kitchen.

I cracked two fresh eggs into the skillet, frying them a perfect golden brown just for him.

I had a mountain of fires to put out at the company, which meant I couldn't hover over Ezra's schooling during the day. I hired a highend private tutor. Ivy League educated.

It wasn't just homework help; they covered languages, instruments, and child psychology. Over two hundred bucks an hour. Their main job was to shadow Ezra after kindergarten.

Hunter was just a package deal. Naturally, Hunter didn't disappoint. Day one, he threw a massive tantrum, screaming that he wanted to watch cartoons.

The tutor called me, her tone perfectly professional. "Hunter is insisting on watching TV. He won't listen to reason.

Your husband gave him the green light, but I wanted to check with you." I had her on speakerphone.

Malcolm, sitting across my desk, cleared his throat. "Why are you pushing him so hard? He's just a kid." I gave a curt nod. "Understood.

Just focus all your time on Ezra, then." "Perfect," the tutor chirped. "Ezra is wonderful. He's incredibly gifted and picks things up so fast.

You can tell he genuinely loves to learn." I hung up, a genuine warmth settling in my chest.

Malcolm’s face darkened. "Pouring all this money and effort into an outsider," he muttered, his voice dripping with venom. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the mahogany wood. "I hired that tutor for both of them.

You told him not to study.

Just because Hunter wants to rot his brain in front of a screen doesn't mean he gets to drag Ezra down with him." I held his stare, letting the silence stretch for a beat. "I adopted Ezra.

You keep calling him an outsider. Do you have a problem with my decisions, Malcolm?

Or are you just looking for an excuse to walk out on this marriage?" Malcolm didn't expect me to swing back so hard.

His jaw tightened. "You're being hysterical." He shoved out of his chair and stormed out of my office. He wouldn't agree to a divorce right now. Not a chance.

Because I was still breathing, and half of our massive corporate empire would go straight into my pocket. But who said I needed a divorce court to strip him of his assets?

I wasn't just the Vice President; I was the COO. From a startup to a corporation with thousands of employees, I built this place from the ground up.

Malcolm just sat in board meetings and signed off on my decisions. I was the one doing the heavy lifting. In my past life, the second I stepped down, Malcolm cleaned house.

He axed Robert, our VP of Finance; Martin, the VP of Sales; Albert, the VP of Strategy; and Riley, the Head of HR. I had personally hired every single one of them.

They had bled for me for nearly a decade. This time, I beat him to the punch.

I pitched an aggressive expansion plan, handing them the most toxic, unsalvageable accounts I had deliberately failed to close for years. Predictably, they crashed and burned.

I used it. I tore them apart in the executive boardroom. Within a week, Robert, Martin, Albert, and Riley had all handed in their resignations.

Malcolm couldn't hide the smug smirk on his face. "They've been with us for years," he said, feigning sympathy. "You could have at least let them save face." "I don't pay people to fail." I snapped a folder shut. "Or are you suddenly running a charity?

If you want them here so badly, you can manage their departments." He threw his hands up in mock surrender. "You're the COO.

Your call." A few days later, he paraded a group of new suits into my office. Handpicked referrals, he claimed.

Exexecutives from Fortune 500 companies looking to bring their expertise to our firm. I knew their resumes were complete fiction. They were Britney's relatives. But for my plan?

The more incompetent, the better. I shook their hands with a bright, welcoming smile and fasttracked their onboarding processes.

We had a multimillion dollar government contract going up for bidding soon. I needed warm bodies in those seats. I led my brandnew team of idiots straight onto the bidding floor.

Chapter 5 The city procurement director was an old contact. He looked the suits behind me up and down, a frown tugging at his mouth. He shook his head. "It's a shame.

Shaking up your core roster during a major expansion is a rookie mistake." I put on a bright, practiced smile. "Come on.

After all these years, you don't trust my people?" He shrugged. "I trust you. The others…" The bidding war was a bloodbath. Predictably, we walked out emptyhanded.

Every single government contract went to a rising tech firm called Ascent. Back in the main conference room for the postmortem, Malcolm sat at the head of the table.

His jaw was clenched tight. He didn't say a word. I opened the meeting by taking the heat for my own oversights.

But the second I pivoted to tear into our new executives, Malcolm actually stepped in to shield them. "We were underprepared for this bid. Obviously, that's because the team is new.

Crossdepartmental synergy and internal communication aren't there yet. But this isn't just Victoria's fault. Everyone shares the blame.

I'm pulling this month's performance bonuses across the board. Go back, review your mistakes, and do better next time." A slap on the wrist. Textbook damage control. Of course.

He was terrified his sweetheart's relatives would complain to her. I didn't push it. I picked up my coffee and took my time walking back to my office.

That night, Malcolm's phone buzzed incessantly on the nightstand. I glanced over. Unknown caller ID. It wasn't hard to guess who was on the other end. Malcolm snatched it up.

He shot me a nervous look and practically sprinted out of the bedroom. He didn't pull the door shut all the way.

His hushed, frantic voice leaked through the crack. "My hands were tied… It's just one month's bonus. Think about the long game… Alright, alright.

I'll cover it out of my own account, okay?" He slipped back into the room.

He swiped through his phone screen, pretending to read an urgent email. "Emergency at the office," he announced. "I have to head out.

Don't wait up." I kept my eyes glued to the book in my lap. I didn't even blink. He stopped at the door. "Victoria." I finally looked up.

He shifted his weight, his eyes darting away. "You seem… never mind. It's nothing." The front door clicked shut downstairs.

I dropped the book onto the mattress, a cold smile pulling at my lips. Funding his mistress's family with my company's cash. He better cover his tracks perfectly.

Otherwise, I'd bleed them all dry to get every last cent back. Ezra's gift for the piano was unnatural.

His tutor swore that after just one month, he was outplaying kids who had practiced for years. She claimed he was ready for statelevel competitions right now.

I knew she played favorites and probably exaggerated, but the warmth still spread through my chest. Hunter didn't dare lay a finger on Ezra at home anymore.

And since I had explicitly tipped off the kindergarten teachers to keep an eye on them, Hunter had to find new targets for his rage.

It had only been a month, and I had already lost count of how many times the principal called. Malcolm hurled his pen across the living room.

It shattered against the hardwood floor. "I told you to quit your job and take care of him!" He pointed a shaking finger at me. "He's acting like this because of you!

You're his mother, step up!" I flipped a page of the quarterly financial report. I didn't look up. "We both work fulltime. At least I come home when I clock out.

You're gone twentyfourseven. Don't you dare put his behavior on me." Malcolm's hand dropped. A flicker of panic crossed his face.

He stayed quiet for a long beat before squaring his shoulders, trying to look intimidating. "If you refuse to raise Hunter, I'll just ship him off to my parents." I raised my head and locked eyes with him. "Malcolm.

Every child needs an adjustment period. Ezra managed it. Hunter will too.

But if you're going to use this as an excuse to attack me, then maybe I really am not cut out to raise a son of yours." Chapter 6 He shoved his chair back.

The metal legs scraped harshly against the hardwood floor.

When I didn't flinch, he pointed a finger at me. "Don't you dare regret this." He stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him. Regret?

In my past life, regret had eaten me alive until there was nothing left but ash. In this life, it was the one thing I had permanently cut out of my system.

With Hunter shipped off to his grandparents, Malcolm used it as a convenient excuse to stop coming home. I breathed a long sigh of relief into the empty house.

His absence gave me all the breathing room I needed to operate. A new tech startup, Ascent, just launched a product.

It wasn't just similar to our current R&D focus; it was a carbon copy. Except we only had a rough concept mapped out on whiteboards.

They already had a fully functioning prototype, and their tech specs blew ours out of the water. Malcolm threw a massive fit in the boardroom. "Throw money at it!

Poach their developers! Double the budget! How the hell does a nobody startup think they can step on my neck?" He always had his head in the clouds. All talk, zero followthrough.

He dug hole after hole and never bothered to fill them.

If I hadn't spent the last decade forcing him to stay grounded and focus on a single industry, we would still be splitting stale bagels in a studio apartment.

The new VP of Finance—Britney's relative—didn't flinch at Malcolm's outburst. He leaned back in his leather chair and pitched his voice loud. "It's simple.

We just invest in their finished product. A tiny company like that is definitely bleeding cash.

We throw some capital their way, grab a chunk of equity…" A thick vein bulged on Malcolm's forehead. He raised a shaking finger, pointing it right between the new VP's eyes.

Then, he froze.

His jaw snapped shut like he suddenly remembered who he was talking to. "I actually think it's a solid pivot," I said, my voice smooth and measured. "We just lost those major bids.

Our current massive projects are draining our manpower and resources. Investing in an external, readytolaunch product isn't the worst way out." A board vote was called.

Malcolm's solitary opposition was crushed by a landslide of approvals. I drove down to sign the contracts myself.

A massive tidal wave of our corporate capital flooded straight into Ascent's accounts. To their credit, Ascent delivered.

Their new product dominated the market overnight, pulling in heavy profits. The entire executive floor was popping champagne over the decision when Ascent's CEO dropped a new bomb.

They had a phasetwo concept. It was a decade ahead of our own R&D. It wiped the floor with everything we were trying to build.

So, instead of bringing our returns back inhouse, we doubled down and pumped even more capital into their pockets.

Malcolm wired the new VP of Finance a halfmilliondollar bonus for his "brilliant initiative." The man took the cash and immediately pushed his luck. "Cash flow is getting a little tight," he suggested during the next briefing. "Ascent has a killer team.

What if we bundle our existing government contracts and outsource them to Ascent? Like a buytwogetonefree deal?" An absolute business genius. Malcolm actually took the bait.

The very next morning, he called an emergency meeting.

He claimed our internal teams were stretched too thin, and that offloading the government contracts to Ascent was the smartest play.

I cut him off. "You can't just blindly outsource government contracts.

When the auditors find out, are you taking the fall?" Malcolm scoffed, puffing up his chest with unearned confidence. "Why not? You've got the city officials in your back pocket.

Grease the wheels.

It's done." If I hadn't overheard his latenight phone call the evening before, I might have actually bought his sudden burst of alphamale posturing. "My brother's pitches always turn a profit for you.

You shoot this down, and I'm packing up our son and moving back to my hometown!" "Once those government contracts are wrapped up, that old hag is stepping down anyway.

She promised." "The second she's gone, the whole company is ours. If she can handle the city officials, why can't we? It's just slipping them cash, right?

Anyone with money can do it." Chapter 7 "And once she's gone, we're rebranding the company. That bitch isn't touching a single cent of my son's money!" I smiled.

A genuine, fullchested smile. Ascent's meteoric rise didn't trigger a single alarm bell in the executive suite.

Malcolm patted himself on the back, completely convinced he was a visionary majority shareholder with a killer instinct.

The second the government contracts were officially handed over to Ascent, I kept my word. I cleared out my office and came home. Ezra was settling into his new life.

The flinching and the fearful reverence were melting into genuine affection. I held his small, warm body against my chest, feeling a profound sense of peace settle over me.

I was going to be here for him. I would shadow his every step until he was strong enough to walk on his own. With me out of the building, Malcolm dropped the act entirely.

He paraded Britney straight into corporate headquarters, officially putting her on the payroll under the guise of being Hunter’s "private tutor." I saw her more than once during kindergarten dropoffs.

Dripping in diamonds, teetering on designer stilettos.

She’d strut through the school courtyard, a Birkin bag hooked on one arm and Hunter’s hand in the other, practically begging the other moms to stare.

Once, I watched her back a single mother against a brick wall, her shrill voice echoing down the block just because the woman's kid had accidentally brushed against her skirt.

Pure, unadulterated entitlement. Ezra's small hand gripped mine tighter. "Mom," he whispered, looking up at me with wide eyes. "She's supposed to be his tutor.

But Hunter calls her Mom." He gently patted the back of my hand, his brow furrowed, terrified that I was going to fall apart.

I crouched down and pressed a kiss to his soft cheek. "Listen to me, baby. You are my only son. I don't care about anyone else in this world but you.

Nothing they do can ever hurt me." Ezra's sweet, relieved smile washed the tension right out of my shoulders.

But since Britney got off on treating poor people like dirt, I didn't mind accelerating her timeline to bankruptcy. Malcolm actually showed his face at the house a few days later.

I found him in the walkin closet, tearing through my velvet jewelry organizers. He froze when he saw me leaning against the doorframe.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Where's that diamond tennis necklace?" "At the jeweler for maintenance," I said, my voice deadpan. He gave an awkward nod. "Right.

And all my watches? They're out for maintenance too?" "Yep." Irritation flashed across his face. "I have a gala tonight.

How am I supposed to go without a watch?" I dropped my gaze to the massive Vacheron Constantin strapped to his wrist. "You're wearing one." "It doesn't match the suit!" I didn't argue.

I walked over to his side of the closet, pulled out a different bespoke suit, and tossed it onto the island. "This one matches." He didn't touch it. "Stop messing with my things," he snapped. "And wire me a hundred grand.

The corporate accounts are a little tight right now. I need liquid cash." I widened my eyes, playing the perfect, panicked housewife. "A hundred grand?

Where am I supposed to get that kind of cash? I didn't take a single dime when I stepped down from the company.

Plus, between Ezra and Hunter's tuition and the private tutors, we're burning through cash." His eyes bulged.

His voice shot up an octave. "We're out of money?!" I gave a slow, deliberate nod. "I liquidated our cash flow and locked it all into a trust fund for the boys.

I have exactly five thousand, eight hundred dollars left in my checking account." "Who gave you the right to open a trust?! Break it! Pull the cash out right now!

The company needs it