75

A week later...

The call came just before lunch. Lea had been in her home office, going over song notes for a music special TVN wanted her to host, while Rafael was upstairs on a video call with the DTVH board. It was Ellie who answered the home phone first — the landline, the one schools still called when they needed "the parents."

Her face changed as she listened — polite first, then tight-lipped. "Yes, ma'am. I'll let them know right away." When she hung up, her expression said everything.

"Who was that?" Lea asked, immediately wary.

"The principal," Ellie said slowly. "It's about Liam."

Lea straightened in her chair, dread curling in her stomach. "What about him?"

Ellie hesitated. "He... got into a fight."

By the time they reached Brent International School, the security guard had already been briefed. They were ushered into the principal's office with the quiet efficiency that only came when the staff knew they were dealing with the De Torre family.

Rafael's jaw was tight, his hand pressed against the small of Lea's back as they entered. Liam sat on one end of the long table, arms crossed, lip bruised and nose slightly red. He looked more annoyed than guilty.

Across from him was another boy, older and taller, with a swollen cheek and his mother sitting beside him — the picture of indignation.

"Mr. and Mrs. De Torre," said Miss Bautista, the school principal, standing immediately. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"What happened?" Rafael asked evenly, voice cool but firm. The kind of tone that made grown men in boardrooms straighten up.

The principal glanced nervously at Liam, then back to them. "There was... an altercation during recess. According to witnesses, Liam was being teased by some of his classmates. One of them called him—" she cleared her throat, "—a spoiled brat and a know-it-all. He reportedly told them to stop. When they didn't... he punched one of them."

Lea's eyes widened. "He punched him?"

The mother of the other boy immediately spoke up, voice shrill and accusatory. "That's your son? The little genius who thinks he owns the world? You should teach him some humility, Mrs. De Torre! Just because his father's a big name doesn't mean he can—"

Rafael turned his head slowly toward her, and she stopped mid-sentence. His tone was calm but laced with steel. "Ma'am, I suggest you refrain from assuming what kind of parents we are before hearing the full story."

The woman opened her mouth again but faltered when Lea's sharp gaze joined Rafael's. The silence that followed was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Principal Bautista cleared her throat again, breaking the tension. "In Liam's defense... witnesses confirmed he tried to walk away at first. The older boys kept following him, making remarks about his family — about your wealth, your reputation, and..." she hesitated, "about the stories online."

Lea's face fell. "Stories?"

The principal nodded. "Children can be cruel, Mrs. De Torre. They said things about his father's health, about your career, even about his sister. He asked them to stop three times."

Liam, still silent, stared at the floor.

Rafael leaned back in his chair, voice quieter now. "And then he punched one of them."

"Yes," the principal admitted. "But only after being pushed and insulted."

The other boy's mother gasped. "He could've handled it better!"

Rafael's eyebrow lifted slightly. "He's seven, ma'am."

Lea reached for Liam's hand, but he didn't look up. His jaw was set, his shoulders rigid — he was angry, embarrassed, but mostly... hurt.

Principal Bautista sighed. "Given the circumstances, and considering Liam's record, we're not giving formal punishment — just a written warning. However, we wanted to address the incident before it escalates."

Lea nodded, her composure returning. "Thank you, Miss Bautista. We appreciate your fairness."

When they left the office, silence followed them down the corridor. The driver opened the car door, but Rafael motioned for him to wait. He crouched down in front of Liam instead.

"You want to tell me what happened, anak?" Rafael asked, his voice softer now.

Liam's lip trembled slightly, the first crack in his composure. "They said things about you. About mama. About Soleil."

Lea's throat tightened. "What kind of things?"

Liam shook his head quickly. "I don't want to repeat them."

Rafael exhaled slowly, his hand landing gently on the boy's shoulder. "You did what you thought was right. But fighting doesn't make things better, Liamito."

"They wouldn't stop," Liam whispered. "They said you were dying and that mama bought her way into everything. They said Ate Ellie doesn't even know who Soleil's real dad is."

Lea's breath hitched audibly, tears immediately brimming in her eyes. Rafael froze — for once, completely still.

"And you still think I should've just walked away?" Liam asked, voice breaking.

Rafael closed his eyes, chest heavy. He pulled Liam into his arms, hugging him fiercely. "No, Liamito. No, anak," he said quietly. "I think you did what any De Torre would do when someone disrespects their family."

Lea sighed, torn between pride and heartbreak. "That doesn't mean punching is right, anak. But... I understand."

The boy nodded mutely against Rafael's shoulder.

When they got home, Lea took Liam to the kitchen, made him his favorite merienda — cheese rolls and hot chocolate — and sat with him while he ate quietly.

"I'm sorry, mama," he said finally. "I didn't want to make you sad."

Lea smiled faintly, brushing his hair back. "You didn't make me sad, baby. You made me proud... but also a little scared."

He frowned. "Why scared?"

"Because you're too much like your papa," she teased gently, earning the smallest smile from him.

Rafael entered then, standing by the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. "That's not a bad thing."

Lea threw him a playful glare. "It is when it comes with bruised knuckles."

Rafael walked over, crouched beside Liam again, and held out his hand. "Let me see."

Liam obediently showed his slightly reddened knuckles. Rafael took them gently, inspecting them before pressing a soft kiss over them. "You defended us. That's something I'll never forget. But next time, let's use words, not fists."

Liam nodded, then leaned in to hug him tightly. "I just didn't want them to hurt you."

Rafael swallowed hard. "They can't hurt me, anak. Not when I've got all of you."

Lea stood there watching — her husband and son, mirror images in poise and heart. She felt the ache subside a little, replaced by warmth. Maybe this was how it would always be — their lives full of storms and lessons, but always circling back to love.

She walked up to them, wrapping her arms around both.

"Next time," she said softly, "you tell them your mama can still outsing their mothers any day of the week."

Liam giggled. "Okay, mama."

Rafael chuckled, kissing Lea's forehead. "And if they don't believe him," he said lightly, "we'll just have to remind them why the De Torres are not to be underestimated."

Lea rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible."

"Always," Rafael replied, smiling as he looked down at their son — bruised but unbroken.