Page 84 of Say You're Mine

And I'm coming for everything you hold dear.

Chapter twenty-five

June

The stench of piss and despair hits me like a freight train as I'm shoved into my cell. Metal clangs against metal, the sound reverberating through my bones as the door slams shut behind me. I stumble, my legs weak from days of interrogation, and collapse onto the thin mattress that passes for a bed in this hellhole.

Fuck. How did it come to this?

I close my eyes, but all I see is Cara's face, contorted in anguish as they dragged me away. The memory of her scream, raw and primal, echoes in my ears. I can still feel the phantom weight of her in my arms, the swell of her belly pressed against me, our child nestled safe between us.

Now, I'm here. Alone. Caged like a fucking animal.

"Welcome home, Deveaux," a gravelly voice sneers from outside the bars. I crack an eye open to see a guard leering at me, his piggy eyes gleaming with malicious glee. "Hope you like your accommodations. Your dear old mom made sure you got the VIP treatment."

I say nothing, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. But inside, rage bubbles up like magma, hot and corrosive. Elaine. Of course she's behind this. The bitch couldn't stand to see me happy, to see me free of her poisonous influence.

The guard chuckles, a wet, phlegmy sound that makes my skin crawl. "Got a message for you," he says, sliding a folded piece of paper through the bars. "Straight from Mommy Dearest herself."

My heart rate kicks up a notch, sweat beading on my forehead. With trembling hands, I reach for the note, dreading what I might find inside. The paper feels oddly warm, as if infused with Elaine's malevolence.

I unfold it slowly, each crease revealing more of her elegant, venomous script:

"My darling boy,

Did you really think you could escape me? That I would let you play house with that little whore and her bastard? You belong to me, Juniper. You always have, and you always will.

But I'm not without mercy. Cooperate, be the good son I know you can be, and perhaps I'll let your precious Cara keep the child. Who knows? With the right guidance, it might even turn out to be a worthy heir.

Resist, and... well. Accidents happen, don't they? Especially to delicate, pregnant women.

The choice is yours, my love.

Mother"

The words swim before my eyes, blurring as red-hot fury surges through me. My fists clench, crumpling the paper, the urge to destroy something – anything – nearly overwhelming.

"You fucking bitch," I snarl, hurling the wadded-up note against the wall. It bounces off harmlessly, a pitiful outlet for the inferno raging inside me. "I'll kill you. I swear to God, I'll rip your fucking heart out with my bare hands."

The guard's laughter echoes down the corridor. "Sounds like Mommy's not too happy with you," he taunts. "Better watch that temper, Deveaux. Might land you in even hotter water."

I ignore him, pacing the confines of my cell like a caged tiger. Six steps. Turn. Six steps back. It's not enough. Nothing is enough to quell the storm of emotion threatening to tear me apart.

Cara. My Cara. The thought of her out there, alone and vulnerable, sends a fresh wave of anguish coursing through me. Is she safe? Has Elaine already made good on her threats?

No. I can't think like that. Cara's strong, stronger than anyone gives her credit for. And she's not alone. Judith's with her, and Dante. They'll keep her safe. They have to.

But even as I try to reassure myself, doubt gnaws at the edges of my mind. What if it's not enough? What if Elaine's reach is longer, her influence deeper than we ever imagined?

The what-ifs spiral, dragging me down into a pit of despair. I sink onto the thin mattress, my head in my hands, fighting against the tide of hopelessness threatening to drown me.

And then, unbidden, a memory surfaces. Cara, bathed in golden morning light, her skin glowing, her eyes bright with love and mischief. We'd just found out about the baby, and she was radiant with joy.

"We're going to be parents, June," she'd whispered, her hand guiding mine to the barely-there swell of her belly. "Can you believe it? We made this. You and me."

The memory is so vivid, so real, that for a moment I can almost feel the warmth of her skin beneath my palm. I cling to it, letting it anchor me, a lifeline in the stormy sea of my thoughts.

No. I won't let Elaine win. I won't let her take this from us, not our love, not our family, not the future we've fought so hard to build.

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