<h4>Chapter 162: Window.</h4>


    Hailee’s POV


    For the past two days, I had been watching my n carefully, turning it over and over in my head. It was risky, maybe even reckless, but it was for the best. For him. For me. For the boys. I knew Frederick too well. If I told him I was leaving, he would never allow it. Even now, after everything that happened in the kitchen, even with the way he’d barely spoken to me except through the boys, I knew the truth: the moment I mentioned leaving, he would fight me. He would shut it down. He’d lock the gates if he had to. So I decided not to tell him. No goodbyes. No exnations. Nothing. Just silence. And then I’d be gone.


    This morning, I held onto that thought tightly as we sat at the dining table. Frederick at the head, the boys across from me, their little faces still pale from the stress of the past few days. I managed to chew a little food, though every bite tasted like ash. My stomach twisted with nerves, but I forced myself to smile when Oscar asked for more bread, when Oliver whispered about the toy he lost, when Ozzy quietly picked at his te. I couldn’t let them see. Not yet.


    Frederick barely looked at me. His attention was on the boys—checking their tes, reminding them to eat slowly. When his gaze did flick my way, it was cold, guarded, as if he was still holding onto every word I said in the kitchen that night. His silence hurt deeper than his anger ever could. But maybe that was good. Maybe it would make leaving easier.


    Luckily his mother, my mother, even his sister—they were all away, out of the country. That meant no one would notice my absence until it was toote. The servants, yes, but I’d already thought of that. I would tell them I was taking the boys to the park. They would believe it. Why wouldn’t they?


    My chest squeezed as I forced another spoonful into my mouth, my eyes flicking to Frederick. He didn’t notice the way my hands shook under the table, or the way my throat caught every time I swallowed. All I had to do was wait. Wait for him to leave for the business trip I knew he was scheduled to take today, and once he was gone, I would leave.


    I had no idea where I was going. No n. No map. Just the desperate knowledge that I couldn’t stay here anymore. Not with Frederick. Not with the walls of this house pressing in, suffocating me with guilt and choices I couldn’t make. Leaving was the only thing that made sense. Even if it was madness.


    Across the table, Frederick’s phone buzzed. He picked it up, his voice low and authoritative. "Yes. Make sure the jet is ready within the hour. I’ll be at the hangar soon." The words made my heart pound. It was happening. He really was leaving. My window. My chance. He ended the call, then looked at the boys. His voice softened slightly. "I’ll be gone for just a day. Be good for your mother, do you understand?"


    "Yes, Godfather," they chorused. Oliver even tried a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes.


    Frederick rose, adjusting the cuff of his jacket, his gaze never once lingering on me. He gave onest nod to the boys, then turned and walked out. Momentster, I heard the sound of the car engine growl to life. Then it faded into the distance.


    The silence left behind was crushing.


    I exhaled shakily and stood. My legs felt weak, but I forced them to move. "Boys," I said quietly, my voice barely holding steady. "Come with me. I have something to tell you." They followed without question, their small footsteps padding after mine down the hall and into my room. I shut the door behind us, my hands trembling against the knob.


    They sat on the bed, three sets of eyes on me—so trusting, so sharp, so much like the men I once loved. My throat tightened. "We’re leaving," I whispered.


    Oscar blinked. "Leaving?"


    Oliver frowned. "To where, Mama?"


    Ozzy tilted his head, his voice full of curiosity. "To our father?"


    The room spun around me, my breath catching hard in my chest. Their words hung heavy in the air. To their father. That was what they wanted. That was what this all came down to. My throat felt like it was closing, but I forced the words out anyway. "I told you your father is dead," I said softly, my voice breaking halfway through.


    Oscar scoffed immediately, his little chin tilting up with defiance. "We all know that’s a lie, Mama." His green eyes burned into mine, so sharp they cut straight through my chest.


    I swallowed hard, shaking my head quickly. "That’s not the topic for now," I said, my tone firmer than I meant it to be. "I’m here asking if you’ll agree toe with me—just us—for a while. A secret vacation." I tried to smile, but it trembled on my lips. "We’lle back. I promise."


    Oscar’s eyes narrowed. "Mom, we’re not kids. You can’t fool us." His voice was steady, older than his years. "We know you’re not on good terms with Godfather Frederick."


    Oliver nodded. "And we know we’re noting back," he whispered. "If we leave, that’s it, isn’t it? You don’t want us toe back here."


    Ozzy’s calm voice camest, his brown eyes locked on me, unblinking. "And we know Godfather Frederick isn’t aware of this. You’re keeping it from him."


    My breath hitched, my body trembling under their gaze. They were too smart. Too sharp. Too much like... them. I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to steady my heart. "Boys..." My voice cracked, weak and pleading. "Please. Just trust me on this."


    They exchanged nces among themselves as though they were telepathicallymunicating. Then, after a moment, they all nodded in unison. "Fine... but on one condition."