Page 83 of Say You're Mine

But doubt creeps in, insidious and persistent. Am I doing the right thing, working with someone like Dante? His world is one of violence and shadows, of power bought with blood. Is this really the path I want to walk, the legacy I want to leave for our child?

I close my eyes, remembering the feel of June's arms around me, the safety and love I found in his embrace. No. This isn't about right or wrong anymore. This is about survival. About protecting what's mine at any cost.

A soft knock at the door sends my heart racing. Who could be here at this hour? I grab the gun hidden in the kitchen drawer – a precaution Dante insisted on – and approach cautiously.

"Cara?" Judith's voice calls softly from the other side. "It's me. We need to talk."

I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding, lowering the gun. When I open the door, Judith's face is pale, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and determination.

"What is it?" I ask, ushering her inside. "What's happened?"

Judith takes a deep breath, her hands twisting nervously in front of her. "I've been doing some digging of my own," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I think I might have found something. Something big."

My pulse quickens as she pulls out a folder, spreading documents across the kitchen table. Financial records, medical reports, grainy surveillance photos – a tapestry of corruption laid bare before my eyes.

"It's not just about June," Judith explains, her voice tight with suppressed rage. "Elaine's been running this operation for years. Manipulating people, breaking them down and rebuilding them to suit her needs. And the babies..." She breaks off, a sob catching in her throat.

"What about the babies?" I press, a chill running down my spine.

Judith meets my gaze, her eyes haunted. "They're creating them, Cara. Designer children, bred for specific traits. And the ones that don't meet their standards... God, I can't even talk about it."

The room spins, and I grab onto the back of a chair to steady myself. This is worse than we imagined, worse than anything I could have dreamed up in my darkest nightmares.

"We have to stop her," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "We have to burn this whole fucking operation to the ground."

Judith nods, a fierce light blazing in her eyes. "That's why I'm here. I have a plan, but it's dangerous. Risky as hell. And I need your help to pull it off."

As she outlines her idea, I feel something shift inside me. The last vestiges of the old Cara – naive, trusting, willing to see the good in everyone – fall away.

In her place stands someone new. Someone forged in the crucible of loss and betrayal, tempered by rage and an unshakable determination to protect what's hers.

I am Cara fucking Deveaux. And I will tear apart heaven and earth to bring my family home.

As dawn breaks, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, I stand at the window once more. But this time, I'm not lost in reflection or mired in despair.

This time, I'm planning a war.

Elaine thought she could break us, tear us apart and reshape us in her image. She thought she could play God with our lives, with the lives of countless innocents.

She's about to learn just how wrong she was.

Because I am no longer prey. I am the predator, circling in for the kill. And when I'm done, there won't be enough left of Elaine Deveaux to fill a thimble.

"Hold on, June," I whisper, pressing a hand to the cool glass. "I'm coming for you. For all of you. And heaven help anyone who stands in my way."

The baby kicks, strong and insistent, as if in agreement. I smile, a fierce, feral thing that would make June proud.

"That's right, little one," I murmur, steel in my voice. "We're Deveauxs. And Deveauxs don't go down without a fight."

I turn from the window, my mind already racing with plans and contingencies. There's work to be done, allies to rally, an empire of shadows to dismantle.

But for the first time in weeks, I feel something other than fear and despair.

I feel hope. Dangerous, wild, intoxicating hope.

And I know, with a bone-deep certainty, that we're going to win this thing.

Watch out, Elaine. Your days are numbered.

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