Cyrus stormed through the hallway, leaving a pile of debris in every room he trashed. He could care less about what Esther thought. Who did she think she was?

He went into his office, opening his overflowing inbox and going through the messages from his entourage. He ignored them, moving his cursor to the filtering option, and shooting back quick, neutral replies to all the messages asking for business opportunities. He didn't have time for those right now.

Cyrus tried to work for a few more hours, trying to take his mind off his wife. But nothing he did seemed productive, and in the end, he swept his computer off the desk, flinching at the crash and splintering of glass and wires. When the noise died down his shoulders unclipped, and he buried his head in his hands.

Esther's car was parked under a shady tree and had been there for the past hour. One would find her sitting in the nearby coffee shop flipping through document after document. Look closer and you might catch sight of the pile of clothing patterns that were abandoned next to her. A steaming mug of coffee sat next to her, and her fingers stung when she lifted the scalding liquid to her lips.

She could care less about what Cyrus thought. Who did he think he was?

Her phone rang in her purse and she grabbed it and left the quiet coffee shop, not wishing to disturb anyone studying or working there. It was Mandy, one of the jewelry designers she'd met the year before.

"Why, hello girl!" the voice on the other end chirped. Esther laughed. "What are you so enthusiastic for?"

"Can't a girl be excited for no reason?" she retorted. "Well anyways, how is it going between you and…you know who?"

Esther leaned against a pillar, letting out a deep sigh.

"Not really good. I left out of anger earlier today." She admitted.

Mandy gasped. "Oh dear. And what about Reggie?"

"He's at school. He's fine." Esther replied. "Esther, darling…" Michelle said slowly. "It's almost 7pm. Hasn't his driver driven him back home by now?" Esther stopped mid-breath. "And? What are you worried about?"

Michelle took a deep breath, and she heard the jostling of beads on the other end. "I wouldn't trust Reggie alone with your husband," she said quietly. "Especially when he's definitely angry at you for leaving."

Esther dashed back into the coffee shop, almost tripping over the cake rack in the center of the room. "You have a point. Thank you, Michelle!" She hung up.

Shoving all her things back into her bags, Esther frequently glanced at the time.

God knows if Reggie was okay.

"Bai bai!" the tiny figure called to the departing car. He stumbled over to the door, the butler opening the door for the little kid to stroll into the house.

"Mommy?" Reggie called, wheeling his little roller bag behind him to the living room. He shook his head at the damaged furniture. 'Daddy was angry again.' He thought.

The butler lifted the little kid up and stepped over the dangerous fragments on the floor. He called over a few maids to take the little boy's things for him and left him in his room. The house was a dangerous place for a child to wander around at this moment in time and despite having orders that none of the mansion's staff were allowed to tend to the young master without permission from both the Lord and Lady of the house, the butler felt responsible for the kid's wellbeing now the Lady was absent, and the Lord was…in this current state.

The butler had Reggie's dinner sent to his room and one of the maids coaxed the boy to stay in his room. Reggie was suspicious, talking nineteen to a dozen, and shooting questions the maid wasn't able to answer. She freaked out, not knowing how to handle all the questions without disrespecting her boss and losing her job. She was already risking so much as it was.

The butler's shift then came to an end, and he slipped up the stairs cautiously, knowing he wasn't allowed on this particular floor. He warned Reggie against roaming the house, telling him it was far too dangerous, and he could easily get hurt.

But he could only do so much.

Esther's car passed the butler's car in the next street, and she gave him a quick nod to which he responded with a polite wave. She turned the corner, waited for the gate sensors to recognize her car and open for her.

A 5-year-old wasn't easily convinced.

Slipping down the stairs, young Reggie tiptoed barefoot to the hallway outside his father's office, his eyes dimming at the smashed picture frames that he once stared at and made-up stories for, now scattered in pieces all over the floor.

'It's dangerous,' he recalled the butler saying. Reggie furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought, suddenly dashing away back to his room to retrieve the little dustpan and broom he used to clean up his eraser dust. He was determined to clean up the broken furniture himself so no one would get hurt. He didn't want anyone getting injured because of his father's temper tantrums.

Esther drove her car into the garage and dashed into the house, gasping at the spoilage. Anger filled her, but she had to focus on her son. She sped up the stairs as fast as she could in heels, avoiding the wreckage as much as she could.

Reggie tiptoed over to the first smashed picture frame, and began sweeping up the tiny fragments of glass. Reggie's lips turned down at the corners when he saw the landscape painting covered in glass, lying a few feet away. He padded over to the picture, brushing away glass with his tiny hands and picking up the painting to stare forlornly at it.

A piece of glass scrunched under his bare toes, and he let out a yelp in pain, falling onto his behind. He held his foot, tears welling in his eyes when he saw blood trickle from both his hands and his foot.