"You—"
Loretta was about to erupt, but Fletcher pulled her back. He stepped forward, looking at Vivica as if she were a complete stranger. The wife he knew had always been gentle, reasonable, and accommodating.
He chose his words carefully. "Vivica, about Chaim's custody, I think we can still discuss it."
"There's nothing to discuss. Chaim stays with me. That's what Chaim wants, too," Vivica replied, her expression blank.
"Bullshit! What does a three-year-old know? He just parrots whatever you teach him!" Dylan roared, his eyebrows shooting up.
Vivica felt as though his shouting was poisoning the air in the room. "Ruby, open a window and let's get some fresh air in here," she instructed.
Her words were the last straw for Dylan. He lunged at her. "Vivica, you have some nerve! How dare you humiliate me like this? I'll teach you a lesson today!"
He was on her in an instant. Without a thought for the child in her arms, he swung his hand. Sensing the danger, Vivica's only instinct was to shield Chaim, pushing his head down against her shoulder. She had no time to dodge.
The sharp smack echoed in the room, followed by a ringing in her ears. Half of her face went numb with a stinging pain.
How pathetic. In the span of a single week, she had been slapped by her own father and now by her husband's father.
"Dad!" Fletcher finally spoke, but his protest was weak. "What did you hit her for?"
Just then, the door flew open, and several men in white coats rushed in.
"What's going on here? This is a hospital! The child needs rest. If you continue to cause a disturbance, we'll have to escort you out!" one of them said, their tone clearly protective of Vivica.

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