Chapter 156 

Tll check on the kids, Henry said to Brandon, nodding toward the door. 

Brandon gave a grateful look from his hospital bed. Tell them their uncle’s sorry he couldn’t step up when it mattered.” 

As Henry passed Rose, he slowed just enough. “Only someone with in their veins could hurt such sweet kids,” he said quietly. “You really showed your true colors today.” 

Rose’s face flushed hot. Her fingers dug into her bag, lips vanishing to a thin line. No assistant had ever dared speak to her that 

way. 

She wanted to snap back, but one look at her son’s cold eyes kept he mouth shut. The realization that Brandon was disgusted with her hit harder than she’d expected. 

Katherine sat with the triplets in a quiet corner of the hallway. She reached for her phone, seeing Alex wince as he shifted positions. 

“I should probably call your mom about what happened,” she said. 

All three kids shot up like rockets. 

“Don’t!” 

“You can’t tell Mom!” 

“No way!” 

Katherine paused, surprised. “Why not? She should know.” 

Lily tugged at her sleeve. “Mom’ll worry herself sick!” 

“And she’ll lose it,” Lucas added. “She might fight with that mean lady.” 

Alex nodded firmly. “Mom needs to stay and help Uncle Adam. She can’t leave because of us.” 

Katherine stared at them, speechless. These kids who’d just been hurt were more worried about their mom than themselves. She 

didn’t know whether to hug them or cry. 

Suddenly, she spotted Henry walking toward them. He paused when he saw the kids, something sad flashing across his face before he turned away. Katherine watched him go, then looked back at the children. Their faces were so earnest, so determined to shield their mother from worry, that she caved. 

“Fine, your mom stays in the dark for now,” she said, against her better judgment. “How about this–tonight we hit up any restaurant 

you want. Sound good? 

Three little heads bobbed in agreement, though their smiles didn’t quite light up their eyes like usual. 

“Can we say bye to Uncle Brandon first?” Alex asked as they were leaving. 

Katherine hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, but just for a minute.” 

Brandon was alone when they walked in. His face brightened. “Alex! What are you guys doing back here?” He tried sitting up straighter. “Let me see where it hurts.” 

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I’m okay, Alex said, “Were heading out. Just wanted to say hyd, 

Brandon’s throat tightened. These kids his sister’s children–had been trashed and hit by their own grandmother, yet here they were, polite as can be, making are to say goodbye. Guilt stabbed through him like a knife. 

“You’re good kids, you know that?” he said, voice rougher than usual 11e forced a smile, though his eyes looked suspiciously bright. “Next time, no hospital visits. I’ll come see you when I’m back on my feet. No one’s gonna mess with you on my watch again.” 

The memory of that sharp crack when his mother’s hand struck Alex back flashed through Brandon’s mind, along with the shock in the little boy’s eyes. 

“Okay,” the triplets answered together. 

Katherine hung back, watching. Her initial fury toward all things Steing had softened a touch seeing how genuinely Brandon cared for the kids. He clearly adored them, blood or not. 

That evening, in their bedroom at Irene’s house, the triplets huddled around a tablet for their nightly call with Irene. Despite their smiles, something about their subdued energy instantly set off her mom–radar. 

“So what’d you guys get up to today?” she asked casually. 

Lily glanced at her brothers. “We visited Uncle Brandon. Played games. It was fun.” 

Irene caught the flatness in her normally bouncy daughter’s voice. Something 

was off. 

She kept it light, asking about dinner with Katherine and tomorrow’s plans, but that nagging feeling wouldn’t quit. The second they ended the call, she was dialing Brandon. 

“What happened with my kids at the hospital?” she demanded when he answered. 

After a pause, Brandon sighed. “Mom showed up. Said some nasty stuff when she saw them.” 

“What kind of nasty?” Irene pressed. 

“The usual,” he admitted. “Called them names. Said they had no manners.” 

“Brandon,” Irene said, her voice dangerously calm. “I’m sorry about your leg, and I hate to stress you out, but I need the truth. Mom hurt my children?” 

Did 

“Sis, I’m so sorry,” he said, voice thick. “I couldn’t stop her. I tried, but stuck in this damn bed-” 

“Did, She. Touch. Them.” Each word dropped like ice. 

Brandon hesitated, then confessed, “She tried to hit Lucas, but Alex jumped in front. She hit him instead. 

“She hit my son?” Irene’s voice had gone deadly quiet. 

“I’m sorry, Irene. I should’ve-” 

Irene hung up, cutting off his apology. Her hand shook as she set down the phone. 

The rage that swept through her burned hotter than anything she’d ever felt. Rose had actually put hands on her child–her babies who’d never known a harsh word or rough touch in their lives. And her sweet, brave Alex had taken the blow meant for his brother. 

She paced the hotel room, fighting to contain the fury threatening to consume her. Her children, her precious little ones she’d 

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raised alone, protected with everything she had–Rose had dared toy a finger on them. 

What twisted the knife was knowing the kids had hidden it from her They’d swallowed their hurt in silence, not wanting to worry her. The thought of them shield ng her, when it should be the other way around, made her chest ache with a tangle of pride and 

pain. 

She needed to get home now. Needed to wrap her arms around her Bables, see with her own eyes they were okay. But even as the thought formed, she remembered why she was here. Adam’s treatment couldn’t wait. 

The sound of à door closing snapped her attention back. Adam wheeled into the room, frowning when he caught the look on her 

face. 

“What’s up?” he asked, taking in her flushed cheeks and tense shoulders. 

Irene opened her mouth to brush it off, then stopped cold. The image of Alex taking a hit meant for Lucas flashed through her mind, and fresh anger surged through her veins. 

Rose’s cruelty wasn’t just an attack on her children–it was a declaration of war. And Irene suddenly remembered a potential weapon in her arsenal. 

“That project Sterling Group wanted you to collaborate on,” she said her voice tight with barely controlled rage. “Is it still on the table?” 

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