I sneered. “Then you report it.”
The house had become like that; I was about to call the police.
I walked right in. The maid couldn’t stop me. In the corner of the yard, I saw a bike, rusted and forgotten. It was barely recognizable.
That bicycle had been custom-made overseas, costing over a hundred thousand dollars, shipped by air as a birthday gift for my daughter.
Even during those three years away, I never missed a single gift, each one chosen with care.
On closer look, the bike was a wreck, completely ruined. Not a single part could be salvaged. It had clearly been left out in the rain, carelessly handled and violently abused.
My daughter, Tatiana, would never treat her things this way; she had always been gentle and careful with her belongings.
Sure enough, I spotted something carved into the frame: Tucker.
My blood boiled. The gift I had lovingly picked for my daughter had been stolen by Carlos and instead of treasuring it, he had destroyed it without a second thought.
Holding back the fury rising in my chest, I asked, “Where is the young lady?”
The maid responded coldly, “What, young lady? There’s only one young master in this house, Young Master Carlos.”
“Where’s Tatiana?”