2. Cara

Chapter two

Cara

D usk bleeds into dawn, an endless cycle of meaningless hours as I lie awake, staring at the shadows dancing across the ceiling. Sleep eludes me, chased away by the relentless pounding of my heart, the sickening churn of my stomach.

June is gone.

The thought pierces through me like a white-hot blade, stealing the breath from my lungs. I curl in on myself, fingers clutching at the sheets where his warmth should be. But there's only coldness, a hollow emptiness that mirrors the aching void in my chest.

How could he just vanish like this? How could he leave me behind, lost and drowning in the wreckage of his obsessive devotion?

Bitter tears sting my eyes, blurring the edges of our bedroom - the bedroom that feels like a mausoleum now, a shrine to everything we once shared. Fragments of memories assault me, each one a twisted knife in my gut.

The way his eyes would darken with hunger as he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. The reverent brush of his fingertips against my skin, igniting sparks of desire that threatened to consume me whole. The heat of his breath against my ear as he whispered promises of forever, of a love that would burn brighter than the stars themselves.

Lies. All of it, lies.

A sob wrenches free from my throat, I'm utterly broken. I press my face into the navy blue hoodie he left behind, breathing in the fading scent of him - sandalwood and spice, a hint of something darker, more primal.

God, how I crave him.

Even now, even after everything, my body aches for his touch, for the searing bliss of his possession. It's a sickness, this need, an addiction I can't seem to shake.

But he's gone. Vanished into the ether like smoke on the wind, leaving me to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart.

I drag myself from the bed, limbs heavy with exhaustion and despair. The wooden floorboards are cold beneath my bare feet as I pad into the bathroom, flicking on the harsh overhead light. It bathes the room in a sickly glow, casting deep shadows beneath my eyes, highlighting the pallor of my skin.

I look like a ghost, a pale imitation of the woman I once was. The woman who believed in love, in the power of two souls entwined as one.

My gaze falls to my stomach, still flat beneath the thin fabric of my nightgown. But there's a secret hidden there, a tiny spark of life that changes everything.

Pregnant. I'm pregnant with June's child.

The revelation hits me anew, stealing the strength from my legs. I grip the edge of the sink, knuckles turning white as I fight against the rising tide of panic.

How can I do this without him? How can I bring a child into this world, into the mess we've made of our lives? The thought is terrifying, a yawning abyss of uncertainty and fear.

But beneath the terror, there's something else - a flicker of hope, fragile and tentative. This baby, this precious little life growing inside me...it's a part of him. A piece of the man I love, the man I've always loved, even when I was too stubborn, too afraid to admit it.

And suddenly, with a clarity that steals my breath, I know what I have to do.

I have to find him. I have to tell him about our child, about the family we could be. I have to make him see that we belong together, that our love is something rare and precious, worth fighting for.

Even if it means facing the demons of our past. Even if it means tearing down the walls I've so carefully constructed around my heart.

I straighten, meeting my own gaze in the mirror. There's a new look burning in my eyes, a fierce resolve that sets my blood aflame.

I will find him. I will bring him home. And together, we will build a life, a future, a love that nothing can destroy.

My hand drifts to my stomach, cradling the tiny spark of hope hidden within. "We're going to be okay, little one," I whisper, my voice barely more than a breath. "Your daddy and I, we're going to make this right. I promise."

But first, I need answers. I need to know what happened, where he went, who took him from me.

And I know just where to start.

I dress quickly, fingers trembling as I pull on jeans and a sweater. The fabric feels strange against my skin, too rough, too constricting. But I push through the discomfort, fueled by the fire in my veins.

I'm out the door before the sun has fully risen, the crisp morning air stinging my cheeks. The city is just beginning to wake, sleepy and slow, but I move with purpose, my strides long and determined.

I flag down a cab, sliding into the back seat with a murmured destination. The driver meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, his gaze curious, but he says nothing as we pull away from the curb.

The streets blur past, gray concrete and neon signs. But I barely see them, my mind consumed with thoughts of June, of the secrets he kept hidden, even from me.

I think of the scars that mar his skin, the shadows that haunt his eyes when he thinks I'm not looking. The way he flinches at unexpected touches, the nightmares that leave him shaking and gasping in the dark the last time I saw him.

He never told me the details, never fully let me in. But I know enough to understand that his past is a twisted, tangled web, full of pain and betrayal.

And at the center of it all, like a venomous spider spinning her poisonous threads, is his mother.

Elaine Deveaux. The name tastes bitter and acrid on my tongue. She's the key to all of this, the puppet master pulling the strings behind the scenes.

I've only met her once, at a gala where June was being honored for his work. She was all icy smiles and poisoned honey, her gaze sharp and assessing as it raked over me, taking in every flaw, every weakness.

I remember the way June tensed at her approach, the way his hand tightened around mine until my fingers ached. The way he seemed to shrink in her presence, reverting to a scared little boy desperate for approval from his mama.

It made me sick, the hold she had over him. The way she twisted his love, his loyalty, into something dark and toxic.

But no more. I won't let her destroy him, won't let Elaine sink her claws in any deeper.

The cab slows to a stop, jolting me from my thoughts. I hand the driver a wad of bills, not bothering to wait for change as I slide out onto the sidewalk.

The building looms before me, all sleek glass and cold steel. The Deveaux empire, a monument to wealth and power.

But beneath the polished veneer, I know the truth. The rot, the corruption, the festering darkness that eats away at the very foundation.

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders as I approach the entrance. The doorman eyes me warily, his hand resting on the holster at his hip.

But I ignore him my heart hammering against my ribs as I walk past his imposing figure; and into the sleek, modern space. Every inch is gleaming marble and cold steel, a contrasting the churning emotions that roil within my uneasy stomach.

I approach the reception desk, my steps faltering as the weight of what I'm about to do settles over me like a leaden cloak. The woman behind the desk looks up, her perfectly manicured brows arching in a silent question.

"I'm here to see Elaine Deveaux," I say, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears. "It's urgent."

The receptionist's gaze flickers over me, taking in my rumpled clothes and red-rimmed eyes. I can practically see the judgment in her stare, the unspoken assumption that I don't belong in this world of wealth and power.

But I refuse to be cowed. Not now, not when June's life hangs in the balance.

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asks, her tone clipped and professional.

"No," I admit, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. "But she'll want to see me. Trust me."

The woman hesitates, her perfectly glossed lips pursing in a frown. But then, with a sigh of resignation, she picks up the phone and dials an extension.

"Ms. Deveaux? There's a young woman here to see you. She says it's urgent."

A pause, then a muffled response from the other end of the line. The receptionist's eyes widen, her mouth falling open in a silent "oh."

"Yes, of course. I'll send her right up."

She hangs up the phone, her gaze snapping back to mine. "Top floor, last door on the right. Ms. Deveaux is expecting you."

I nod, my stomach clenching with a mixture of dread and determination. This is it. The moment of truth.

The elevator ride seems to last an eternity, the muted ding of each passing floor a countdown to my inevitable confrontation. When the doors finally slide open, revealing a long, dimly lit hallway, I have to force myself to step out, my legs feeling like they've turned to lead.

I make my way down the hall, my heart pounding in my ears. The door at the end looms like a portal to another world, a world I'm not sure I'm ready to face.

But I have to. For June. For our child.

With a deep, steadying breath, I raise my hand and knock.

"Come in." The voice that answers is cool and clipped, a blade wrapped in silk.

I push open the door, stepping into a spacious office that practically screams power and privilege. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the city skyline, while sleek, modern furniture and priceless works of art adorn the space.

And there, sitting behind a massive mahogany desk, is Elaine Deveaux herself.

She looks up as I enter, her ice-blue eyes narrowing in a calculating stare. "Well, well. If it isn't the little artist. To what do I owe this...pleasure?"

The word drips with disdain, a verbal sneer that sets my teeth on edge. But I refuse to be intimidated, refuse to let her see how much her mere presence unnerves me.

"Where is he, Elaine?" I demand, my voice shaking with barely contained fury. "Where's June?"

She leans back in her chair, a cruel smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Why, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, my dear. Juniper is exactly where he needs to be."

I stalk forward, slamming my hands down on the desk with enough force to rattle the expensive knick-knacks that litter its surface. "Don't play games with me. I know you did something to him! I bet you have him locked away somewhere. Tell me where he is, or I swear to God, I'll..."

"You'll what?" she asks, her voice dripping with icy amusement. "Call the police? Go to the press? Please, child. Don't embarrass yourself."

She rises from her chair, circling the desk until she's standing mere inches from me. Up close, I can see the fine lines around her eyes, the hardness etched into every plane of her face.

"June is receiving the help he so desperately needs," she says, her tone as smooth and cold as a serpent's scales. "Help that you, with your little artist's salary that I generously gave you, and your...questionable background, could never hope to provide."

I feel a flare of white-hot rage surge through me, my vision blurring at the edges. "You don't know anything about me, or about June. He doesn't need your kind of help. He needs to be with me, with his family."

Elaine laughs, a harsh, grating sound that sets my nerves on edge. "Family? Is that what you think you are to him? Oh, you poor, deluded girl."

She leans in, her face mere inches from mine. I can smell her perfume, a cloying mix of gardenias and something darker, more insidious.

"Juniper is a Deveaux," she hisses, her eyes glittering with malice. "He has a legacy to uphold, a dynasty to maintain. And you? You're nothing more than a distraction, a cheap little thrill he's already grown tired of."

I reel back as if she's slapped me, my heart constricting in my chest. "No," I whisper, my voice trembling. "No, that's not true. June loves me. He wants to be with me, with our..."

I trail off, horror dawning as I realize what I've let slip. But it's too late. Elaine's eyes widen, her mouth curling into a vicious snarl.

"Your what?" she demands, her voice as sharp as a razor's edge. "Don't tell me you're pregnant, and calling that bastard a Deveaux?"

I flinch at the venom in her thrilling laughter and bitter words, my arms instinctively wrapping around my still-flat stomach. "It's not a bastard," I say, my voice low and fierce. "It's our baby. Mine and June's baby."

Elaine's face contorts into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. "You little whore," she spits, her hand lashing out to grip my arm in a bruising hold. "You think you can trap my son with your...your spawn? You think you can force your way into this family?"

I try to wrench away, but her grip is like iron, her nails digging into my skin hard enough to draw blood. "Let go of me," I hiss, my voice shaking with fear and fury. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me where the father of my child is."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," a new voice interjects, smooth and cultured. I look up to see a man stepping out of the shadows, his salt-and-pepper hair and tailored suit practically screaming wealth and influence. "You see, Amethyst is already pregnant with June's child. The next Deveaux heir."

My blood turns to ice in my veins, my stomach churning as nausea melds with a sickening anvil of pure horror. "What? No, that's...that's not possible."

The man smiles, a cold, cruel thing that doesn't reach his eyes. "I assure you, it is. Juniper and Amethyst have been...together for some time now. The pregnancy was planned, of course. A way to ensure the Deveaux line continues, no matter what...distractions may arise."

He says the word "distractions" with a pointed look in my direction, his lip curling in a sneer. I feel like I'm going to be sick, bile rising in my throat as the full weight of his words sinks in.

June and Amethyst. Together. Expecting a child.

It's like a nightmare come to life, a twisted, funhouse mirror version of the future I'd dared to dream of. The future where June and I were a family, where our love was strong enough to overcome any obstacle.

But it was all a lie.

A beautiful, terrible lie that I'd been foolish enough to believe.

Elaine releases her grip on my arm, stepping back with a triumphant smile. "You see, my dear? You never stood a chance. Juniper is a Deveaux man, they have a tendency to play these silly little games. Can't you see he was simply using you—a temporary amusement to pass the time until his real future could begin."

I shake my head, tears blurring my vision. "No. No, I don't believe you. June wouldn't do that to me. He's my best friend, he wouldn't..."

But even as I say the words, doubt creeps in like a poison, insidious and all-consuming. How well do I really know June, after all? How much of what we had was real, and how much was just a pretty facade?

"Believe what you want," Elaine says, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "But the truth is, you were never going to be a part of this family. June's place is with Amethyst, with the child they've created together. And you? You're nothing more than a footnote, a sad little case of charity that he'll look back on with pity and regret."

I stumble back, my legs threatening to give out beneath me. This can't be happening. It can't be real.

But it is. The proof is right there in front of me, in the cruel curl of Elaine's lips and the cold, calculating stare of the man beside her.

I've lost him. I've lost June, and everything we could have had together.

The realization hits me like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs. I double over, my arms wrapping around my middle as if to hold myself together, to keep the shattered pieces of my heart from spilling out onto the cold, marble floor.

"Cara? Cara, are you alright?"

The voice is familiar, cutting through the haze of grief and despair; the sound that brings the safest place my battered soul could land. I look up to see my mother standing in the doorway, her face etched with concern.

"Mom?" I croak, my voice raw and broken. "What are you doing here?"

She rushes to my side, gathering me into her arms like I'm a child again, small and scared and in need of comfort. "I came as soon as I heard. Louis called me, said you were heading into the lion's den alone. I couldn't let you face this by yourself."

I sag against her, burying my face in the crook of her neck as sobs wrack my body. "It's over, Mom. It's all over. June, the baby...everything."

She strokes my hair, murmuring soothing nonsense as I come apart in her arms. "Shh, honey. It's going to be alright. We'll figure this out, I promise."

Elaine clears her throat, her voice cutting through the tender moment like a knife. "Well, isn't this touching? The artist and her immigrant mother, come to beg for scraps from the Deveaux table."

My mother stiffens, her arms tightening around me. Slowly, lifting her head, and I watch nervously as her eyes lock onto Elaine's in a steely glare.

"How dare you?" she says, her voice low and dangerous. "How dare you talk to my daughter like that, after everything your family has put her through?"

Elaine scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. "Please. Your daughter got exactly what she deserved. She should have known better than to reach above her station."

My mother takes a step forward, her face flushing with anger. "My daughter is worth a thousand of you, Elaine Deveaux. Cara's smart, and talented, and brave. And she has more compassion and integrity in her little finger than you have in your entire body."

Elaine's eyes narrow, her lips thinning into a cruel line. "You have no idea who you're dealing with, Mrs. Briers. I could destroy you and your entire family with a snap of my fingers."

My mother laughs, a harsh, brittle sound. "Go ahead and try. But know this - I will fight for my daughter with every last breath in my body. I won't let you hurt her any more than you already have."

She turns to me, her eyes softening with love and fierce determination. "Come on, honey. Let's go home. There's nothing for us here."

I nod, letting her lead me towards the door on shaking legs. But before we can leave, Elaine's voice rings out one last time, as sharp and cold as a knife's blade.

"You're making a mistake, Cara. Waging war with this family, say goodbye to life as you know it. And remember, June will never forgive you for this…for going against his mother."

I pause, my hand on the doorknob. For a moment, I'm tempted to turn back, to beg and plead for another chance. But then I feel my mother's hand on my shoulder, steady and strong, and I know I can't go back. Not now, not ever.

"Goodbye, Elaine," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I hope you're happy with the choices you've made."

And then I'm walking away, my mother's arm around my waist, holding me up as we make our way out of the Deveaux building and into the bright, unforgiving light of day.

The doors slide closed behind us, and I collapse against my mother, my chest heaving with sobs. The baby flutters inside me, a tiny, fragile reminder of everything I stand to lose.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my hand pressed against my stomach. "I'm so sorry, little one. I failed. I failed you, and I failed your daddy."

The tears come hot and fast, blurring my vision until the world is nothing more than a smear of color and light.

But even through the haze of grief, I feel it. A flicker of something deep inside me, a stubborn ember that refuses to be extinguished.

Hope. Love. The unshakable certainty that what June and I have is real, is true, no matter what anyone else says.

"You okay baby?" My mother's voice breaks my train of thought, and I look into the eyes of my immigrant mother before I straighten, wiping the tears from my cheeks with a shaking hand.

No. I won't let it end like this. I won't let Elaine Deveaux and her poisonous words win.

"I'm okay, or at least I will be." My hands move to my stomach as a smile pulls at my lips. "Don't worry little one, I may have lost this battle, but the war has just begun. P.S. Your grandmother, well one of them anyway…she may look pretty on the outside, but she's a real ugly bitch."

But I can't give up. I won't. Not when everything I hold dear hangs in the balance.

I take a deep breath, letting the cool air fill my lungs, steady my racing heart. Then I step forward, melting into the crowd, just another lost soul in a sea of millions.

But I'm not lost. Not anymore. I have a purpose, a mission. A love worth fighting for, worth laying down my very life.

Juniper Deveaux, wherever you are...I'm coming for you. And Heaven help anyone who stands in my way.