Mrs Riley's POV

I took a deep breath as the bedroom door slammed upstairs. Junior always ran away when things got tough—always. I stood alone in our living room, my expensive heels digging into the carpet as I paced back and forth.

My hands couldn't stop shaking. I picked up a crystal glass from the side table and considered throwing it against the wall, but stopped myself. No sense in making a mess I'd have to explain to the housekeeper.

Instead, I sank onto the edge of the couch, my ...