Page 16

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

Cam

She’s terrified. I can feel it radiating off her like heat.

“We’re close,” I whisper, my voice low but steady. I need her to believe it.

She nods, but her lips press into a thin line. She doesn’t say anything. The silence isn’t like her. Paigelynn always has something to say—a question, a comment, even a challenge. But now?

She’s quiet.

Too quiet.

She’s holding everything in, and I hate that I can’t stop and pull her out of her own head. But there’s no time for that. Not here.

Not with them closing in on us.

We're in a larger brick room, the faint sound of water lapping against something solid echoing faintly.

The docks. Relief flickers in my chest.

We’re almost there.

But the second I step into the room, that relief shatters.

Ian Donegal is waiting for us.

I am not surprised. Pleased? Fuck no.

But not surprised.

He stands at the far end of the room, leaning casually against the wall by the water. His blond hair is slicked back, his sharp suit immaculate, and his polished shoes don’t belong in a place like this.

But his grin—that sharp, smug curve of his lips—fits perfectly.

It’s the grin of a man who thinks he’s already won.

“Well, well,” Ian says, his voice smooth and mocking. It echoes off the walls as he steps forward. “The runaway and her loyal dog. I was wondering if you’d make it this far.”

I step in front of Paigelynn, shielding her from his gaze. My fists clench at my sides, jaw tightening.

“Get out of our way, Ian.”

Ian tilts his head, his grin widening. “Out of your way? Oh, Mario. That’s not how this works. You’ve caused so many problems. I’m here to clean them up.”

“Clean them up?” I spit the words, my voice sharp. “You’re the problem, Ian. You, Mother, your father—all of it. Nothing but parasites.”

Ian chuckles, shaking his head like I’m a child who doesn’t understand. “Parasites? Is that how you see us? Hardly. We’re visionaries. What we’ve built—the Donegals, the Luisis, the Santinos, the Javics—it’s not a problem . It’s progress.”

“Progress?” I step forward, my body taut. “You manipulate DNA databases through Synergy900, kidnap girls, sell people like property for their organs. That’s not progress, Ian. That’s evil.”

Ian’s smirk doesn’t waver. If anything, it grows.

He likes being called evil. “No, Cam. Evil is messy. What we’ve done is clean.

Efficient. People hand over their DNA willingly—they want to know their ancestry, their health risks.

Cute, huh? We just… use that information.

We see patterns, weaknesses, opportunities.

That’s not evil. That’s just smart. We're smarter, and smart is rewarded.

Survival of the fittest. That's how it all works.”

“Keep on telling yourself that,” I say, my voice low and cold. "You're not smarter. You just have no morality. Being a sociopath doesn't mean you're smarter."

“You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just business. This is survival, like I said. Forget the prophecy—that’s just a story to keep people in line. What we’re building is real. The strong take what they need. The weak die off. That’s how the world works now. We're adapting.”

The words twist something deep inside me. I glance back at Paigelynn, catching the way her chest rises and falls quickly, like she’s fighting to steady herself. For a second, her eyes meet mine.

She’s terrified, but I see something else there too.

Determination .

She’s scared, but she’s not giving up.

Not yet.

Before I can speak, Paigelynn steps forward, her voice shaking but loud enough to echo in the room. “Men like you,” she says, her tone sharp despite the tremor, “are exactly what The Mother warned me about.”

Ian freezes for a moment, and then he laughs.

It’s sharp, cruel, and mocking. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says, his grin twisting into something darker, something meaner.

“The Mother didn’t warn you about me. I’m what she made you for.

You’re her masterpiece, and I’m the one who knows how to use you properly. ”

“Don’t talk to her,” I snap, my voice hard, my fists clenching so tightly they ache.

Ian ignores me, his gaze fixed on Paigelynn. “You’ve got fire,” he says, his tone amused. “I like that. And now that you’ve been ruined, maybe we can put it to better use. A girl like you doesn’t need to be pure to be useful. You’ll learn that soon enough.”

Paigelynn flinches, but she doesn’t back down. “You’re a monster,” she spits, her voice trembling but strong.

Ian’s grin widens. “Maybe,” he says, shrugging like it doesn’t matter. “But monsters win. That’s how the world works. The weak—” his gaze flicks to me for a split second—“die. The strong take what they want. And I always get what I want.”

I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. My body moves before my brain catches up.

My fist connects with Ian’s jaw, the impact reverberating up my arm. He stumbles back, but I don’t stop. I grab him by the collar, slamming him into the wall. My vision narrows, blurred by the red-hot anger burning inside me.

He doesn’t get to talk about her like that.

He doesn’t get to exist after saying something like that.

Ian recovers quickly. He twists out of my grip, shoving me back as he throws a punch. His fist catches me in the ribs, sharp and painful. I don’t let it slow me down.

I lunge at him again, driving my shoulder into his chest. He grunts as he slams into the wall.

“Paigelynn!” I shout over my shoulder. “Run!”

She's frozen, damn it.

Ian’s faster than I remember, and he’s throwing lethal punches. One slams into my gut, knocking the wind out of me. I stumble, gasping for air and nauseated, but I recover quickly. I grab his arm, twisting it hard, and he cries out in pain.

“You think you can stop this?” Ian growls, his voice rough and venomous. “You think you can save her? You’re just some loser Dominic picked up from Gaia because he needed a pawn. Because Angelina begged him. She had to have you as back up for spare parts. That’s all you’ve ever been. Spare parts .”

His words cut deeper than his fists. My grip tightens, my nails digging into his collar as I slam him into the wall again.

“If anyone's the spare, it's you,” I snarl, my voice low and dangerous. "Cormac's the one who inherits after old Niall dies. Not you."

Ian sneers, blood dripping from his mouth.

“I don't care. I've got everything I need. But you – you heard me. Dominic didn’t take you in because he cared about some pathetic twelve-year-old cult loser. He needed someone to control, someone to use. And now you’re broken, running around like a wannabe hero. Pathetic.”

The fight escalates. Our bodies collide, fists swinging, grunts echoing in the narrow room. The walls feel like they’re closing in, the air growing heavier with every passing second.

I hear Paigelynn shout something, her voice high and panicked, but her words blur together in the chaos.

Ian shoves me hard, sending me stumbling toward the edge of the dock. My boots skid on the slick surface, and I barely catch myself before falling.

But Ian doesn’t stop.

He charges at me, his shoulder slamming into my chest. The force sends us both tumbling over the edge.

The water hits me like ice, cold and heavy, dragging me under. My lungs burn as I kick and thrash, trying to break the surface. When I finally do, gasping for air, Ian is there. He pulls me back under.

The waves crash around us, rough and relentless, every movement a fight to survive.

“Paigelynn!” I shout, choking on saltwater. I can’t see her, can’t hear her. Panic claws at my chest, but I force it down.

I can’t think about her right now.

I have to survive.

I have to stop him.

Because if I don't, and he kills me, then he really will have his way with her.

Ian chokes me, his grip tight and unrelenting. My vision blurs, the world tilting and spinning as the water pulls us under again. I claw at his arms, my nails digging into his skin.

He doesn’t let go.

I twist my body, slamming my elbow into his ribs. His grip loosens finally, and I break free, gasping as I claw my way to the surface.

The choppy waves toss me like a rag doll, but I keep kicking.

Keep fighting.

Ian resurfaces a few feet away, coughing and sputtering, his eyes wild with rage. He lunges at me again, his hands grabbing at my shoulders. I find a piece of floating driftwood, swinging it at him with all my strength. The wood connects with his head. He stumbles back, sinking beneath the waves.

For a moment, everything is still. The only sound is the crashing of the water and my own ragged breathing.

I scan the surface, searching for Ian, but he doesn’t resurface.

I glance back toward the dock, my chest heaving.

Paigelynn isn’t there. My heart stops.

“Paigelynn!” I shout, my voice raw and desperate. The echo of her name is swallowed by the sound of the waves.

She’s gone.