Victor Sutton had survived missions in fourteen countries, but nothing hit him harder than seeing his son stumble through the gates of Fort Bragg on Christmas morning.
Jake looked like he’d walked out of a nightmare. Bruised, shaken, barely standing. He managed only a whisper of a word—“Dad”—before collapsing into Victor’s arms.
Within minutes, Victor had him at the base hospital. Doctors moved fast. Too fast. Their faces tightened as they worked. Whatever happened wasn’t a scuffle. It was an assault—organized, intentional, cruel.
While Jake slept under sedation, Victor’s phone buzzed.
A video.
The moment he recognized the driveway on the screen—his ex-wife Rebecca’s house—his pulse turned cold.
He pressed play.
Seventeen minutes of footage told the entire story: Jake arriving with Christmas gifts, stepping inside with a hopeful smile… and then being surrounded. Intimidation turning into an attack. Taunts. Mocking voices. Rebecca filming everything like it was entertainment.
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