The Billionaire’s Notorious Villainess Stepmother Chapter 06
The 4 AM Lockdown
Before I touched Cassandra’s money, I was going to break the house first.
At three fifty-five a.m., I put on a robe over my nightgown.
At three fifty-eight, I walked to the main security panel in the east corridor.
At four a.m. sharp, I pulled the alarm.
The alarm screamed through the villa. Red emergency lights flashed in every hall.
It was the kind of alarm that meant one thing. Get up. Get out. Run.
I stood in the main hall with my arms crossed and waited.
Cassandra came first, stumbling down the stairs in a silk nightgown, no makeup, hair wild.
Her face was white. Pure terror.
“WHAT’S HAPPENING? ARE WE UNDER ATTACK?”
Lady Margaret came next, gripping the banister. Her hand shook on her cane. Two bodyguards flanked her, both scanning the hall.
But the rest of the security team ran toward the diamond vault.
Not the children’s rooms.
The vault.
The staff poured in from every direction.
Maids in bathrobes, cooks still wiping sleep from their eyes, drivers half-dressed.
Tristan ran out crying, hiding behind his mother.
I waited until everyone was there.
Then I shut off the alarm.
Everyone stared at me.
“Good morning,” I said.
Cassandra’s terror turned to fury in half a second. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
“This was a drill.”
I paced in front of them, slow, hands behind my back.
“The Blackwood family has enemies. People outside these gates would love to take everything from us. And what did I just learn? This household protects diamonds before children. Four minutes is not security. It’s failure.”
“This is insane!” Cassandra started.
“From now on,” I continued, “when I pull that alarm, everyone moves. No questions. Move fast.”
Lady Margaret slammed her cane against the marble floor. “You have no authority to—”
“I have every authority. I am the lady of this house. And since none of you seem to respect that during daylight hours, we’re going to practice in the dark.”
I pointed at the head of security.
“You’re fired.”
His face went blank.
I pointed at the others. “So are you. All of you. Pack your things before breakfast.”
Then I turned to the kitchen staff. “Kitchen. Now. Full breakfast for ten. You have twenty minutes.”
Nobody moved.
I pulled out my phone and held it up. “Eighteen minutes. Or I call Alistair’s office in Cape Town and explain exactly why his villa protects rough diamonds better than his own children.”
They ran.
Cassandra stood shaking, fists clenched. “Alistair will hear about this.”
“Tell him. Tell him his wife runs 4 a.m. drills and his household can’t even make breakfast under pressure. See if he gets angry at me or at you.”
She had nothing.
Lady Margaret lowered herself into a hallway chair, cane across her knees.
She did not speak. But she understood something now.
She was beginning to understand me.
Breakfast was served in nineteen minutes. Eggs. Toast. Coffee. Nothing fancy, but hot and on time.
I made everyone sit. The guards, maids, Cassandra, Lady Margaret, and Tristan.
Sebastian and Clara sat on either side of me.
Sebastian ate steadily. For the first time since I met him, his hands did not shake.
Clara leaned against my arm, still half asleep, a piece of toast clutched in her small fist.
When breakfast was done, I stood.
“This drill happens again. Random nights. Random times. Until this household remembers what matters first. Children before diamonds. Family before vaults. Am I clear?”
I set my phone on the table.
“Dismissed.”
People scattered. Cassandra stormed upstairs without a word. Lady Margaret stayed in her chair, watching me.
“You are either very brave,” she said quietly, “or very stupid.”
“I’m both,” I said. “That’s what makes me dangerous.”
She almost smiled. Almost.
I took Clara’s hand and walked her back to bed. Tucked her in. Kissed her forehead.
“Scary wake-up,” Clara mumbled, already drifting off.
“I know, baby. Go back to sleep.”
“Will you stay?”
“Always.”
She fell asleep within seconds.
I sat on the edge of her bed in the dark, still wide awake.
Three weeks in this house, and I had already broken their routine and their chain of command.
Now it was time to break their wallets.
Because tomorrow, I was going through Cassandra’s books.
Every account. Every transaction. Every dollar she’d stolen from Alistair’s children.
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