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CHAPTER 4: THE FEAR THAT FOLLOWED HER
I sprinted out the front entrance into the garden. Early sunlight barely cut through the fog.
I followed the small footprints winding toward the lower gate.
Then I saw her.
Isla stood by an old magnolia tree, clutching the babies, shaking in fear. Her hair stuck to her face, cheeks stained with tears.
“Isla!” I called gently. “What are you doing?”
She flinched. “He’s here,” she whispered. “I saw the car. I know that car.”
I turned toward the street.
A dark sedan was parked across from the property. Its engine hummed quietly. The windows were tinted black.
A man sat inside, just watching.
She swallowed hard. “His name is Ryder Vance. Mom tried to leave him. He didn’t let her. And when she… when she wasn’t here anymore… he said he’d take the twins. That they were his legacy.”
“And you ran?”
“I ran because I knew what he’d do to them.” Her voice cracked. “And what he’d do to anyone who tried to protect me.”
“Come inside,” I said firmly. “Whatever he thinks he can take—he won’t.”
“He’ll hurt you,” she whispered.
“Let me worry about that.”
I signaled to Gage. Within seconds, two security cars rolled out. The sedan down the street backed away and vanished.
Her voice was faint. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want danger following me to you.”
I held her steady. “You’re my family. You’re not apologizing for needing safety.”
CHAPTER 5: WHEN THE LIGHTS WENT OUT
I believed Ryder would disappear for good after seeing my security detail.
I was wrong.
Two nights later, while Isla and the twins were asleep in the guest suite, the entire mansion suddenly went dark. Every hallway. Every room. Even our backup generators stuttered.
I heard Gage’s voice over the intercom, shaky but controlled:
“Sir, the breakers were manually cut. Someone got through the gate.”
I turned to Isla and whispered, “Take the babies. Library. Panic room. Go now. Don’t come out until you hear me say your mother’s name.”
She clutched the infants to her chest and ran.
I moved toward the foyer, heart thundering.
No weapons. No violence. Just caution and the certainty that someone wanted inside.
Then I saw a figure in the dim light coming from the street lamps outside—a man forcing his way past the side entrance, trembling with rage.
Ryder Vance.
His presence alone filled the room with tension thick enough to choke.
“You,” he hissed. “You have something that belongs to me.”
“No,” I said calmly. “You’re trespassing. Leave now.”
He stepped toward me with clenched fists. “You think money makes you untouchable?”
“I think hurting people makes you small,” I answered. “And Isla isn’t yours to claim.”
He lunged.
But I wasn’t fighting alone.
Gage and two security officers rushed in from the hallway and intercepted Ryder before he could reach me. He struggled, yelled, tried to break free, but they restrained him and pinned him to the floor without harming him.
It lasted less than a minute.
The intruder who had terrorized Isla for years was finally contained.
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