The room collapsed into stunned silence.
Lance took the children into his arms. “No one is taking her away,” he said firmly. “Not now. Not ever.”
Doña Consuelo’s hands trembled. For the first time in her life, her wealth, her status, her pride meant nothing against three trembling children defending a woman the world had condemned.
And that was only the beginning.
Because buried within Rosa’s past was another secret—one that would shake the entire family, expose a powerful man, and turn Maya’s sacrifice into a reckoning no one saw coming.
The house did not sleep that night.
Doña Consuelo sat stiffly on the velvet sofa, her back straight, her face pale, staring at the three children who now sat quietly beside Maya. The mansion she had once ruled with authority suddenly felt unfamiliar—almost hostile. For the first time, she was surrounded by something money could not silence: truth.
“Who brought them here?” she asked coldly, though her voice trembled.
“I did,” Lance answered calmly. “They deserve to know they are safe.”
Maya looked at him in shock. “Lance… you didn’t have to—”
“I had to,” he interrupted gently. “I can’t protect you from lies if I don’t face the truth myself.”
Doña Consuelo let out a bitter laugh. “So this is your plan? To shame your own mother with street children?”
Junjun stood up again. His small hands were shaking, but his voice was steady. “We’re not street children, Grandma. We go to school. Auntie makes sure of that.”
The word Grandma hit Doña Consuelo like a slap.
