Chapter 14 #2
Her breath hitched, catching in her throat.
“Let’s refocus for a minute, yeah? Give you a second to breathe.” I waited until her lashes fluttered and she nodded faintly, still pressed to me. “Why don’t you tell us more about Declan? Simple things like what his daily schedule looks like?”
She blinked slowly, grounding herself in the sound of his name. Her body relaxed as she drew in a breath, one shaky inhale, then another, until she was steadier. Her hand reached for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes, her voice small but clearer.
“Declan has a nanny. Her name is Jenny. She’s the only person on staff who will help. Everyone else is loyal to Cameron. He has school and practice. Cameron typically takes him to practice and Jenny to school most days. He has cameras in and around the house.”
“Jenny takes him most days?” I asked.
“I used to take him on Tuesdays, but recently that was taken away from me, too.” Her voice wavered, and I heard the pain behind the words. “The real issue is, I’m never left alone with Declan.”
“Excuse me?” Pasha asked, sounding as dumbfounded as I felt.
He shot me a questioning look.
“Cameron uses it, among other things, to keep me in line. Not that I go against him ever. And while it’s a pretty big obstacle—what I fear the most is the image he’s created of me.”
“Go on,” I encouraged.
“I have something similar to your alter ego,” she said, directing the next part of her answer to Pasha.
Her voice grew even softer, to where Pasha had to lean forward to hear her at all. The fear she was experiencing caused her slight frame to shudder. Darting her eyes around nervously, she gulped.
“Breathe, angel. It’s okay.”
“Cameron has spent the last five years fabricating a story that would have everyone agreeing I’m an unfit mother. Legally, I’ll lose if I try to take him to court. He forced me into situations…made me do things I don’t even want to speak of.”
My jaw clenched, and a burst of rage flared inside me. Every word she said just dug a deeper grave for the man. His days were fucking numbered.
“He has proof,” she whispered, her voice shaking under the emotion. “From medical professionals, colleagues…even our staff. And vi-videos.” Her hand trembled as she covered her mouth. “But it’s all a lie. I’m not unfit. All I’ve ever wanted…” her voice cracked, “was to be a good mother to Declan.”
The confession hung heavy in the room, and then—she broke. Sobs tore through her chest, raw and unrestrained, filling the space with a sound too painful to bear. She drew in, shoulders shaking violently as the years of silence, gaslighting, and loss rushed to the surface.
Pasha stiffened, clearly unsure if he should move. His hands hovered for a second, then dropped to his sides. I didn’t hesitate to gather her into my arms, holding her tightly as she shattered.
Once she calmed, she shifted back and then spoke again, “My greatest fear is that it’s too late.”
Her hands twisted in her lap, fingers pulling at each other as though trying to unmake the truth she was about to speak. “Declan already thinks I don’t love him.”
The words left her lips, shattering her confidence. It physically hurt to see her dejection. I swallowed hard, a slow, sick heat building in my chest.
“I’ve never even been to one of his football games or practices,” she continued, eyes fixed on a spot across the room. “Cameron won’t let me.”
The name was acid on her tongue. I watched her blink fast, as if trying to hold back the flood. My fists clenched where they rested on my knees.
“I’ve never even met his teacher. How pathetic is that?” Her breath shuddered out of her, and she pressed her hand to her stomach, as if trying to hold herself together from the inside out. I wanted to tear something apart. No—someone.
“He locks me in the basement and…” Her voice fractured mid-sentence. For a heartbeat, she was silent.
Pasha choked on his drink, catching her gaze. Then her eyes flicked up to mine. There it was. Fear. Sharp and immediate, like she’d only just realized what she’d said aloud. She froze, lips parting as if to take it back—but the damage was done.
And from the way her chest rose and fell like she couldn’t get enough air, she knew it too. I pulled her into my arms. She clung to me, and I never wanted to let her go. Fuck, the way her breath hitched against my chest, warm and broken, had every protective instinct ingrained in my bones rising.
I held her tighter, resting my chin lightly against the top of her head, trying to absorb some of the pain she’d finally voiced. Across the way, Pasha sat frozen on the couch, his glass drained. His brows knitted together as our eyes met.
He mouthed, “What the hell?”
I gave a nearly imperceptible shake of my head. Later. Now wasn’t the time for questions. The truth was spilling out of her like it had been blocked for years, and I wasn’t about to stop it.
“Go on. It’s okay, you can tell us,” I said, rubbing her back as she clung to me.
Over the course of ten minutes, she shared the hell she endured for years. From his possessive need to control every aspect of her life to the tapestry of deception he created. He’d woven it together expertly.
Every move he made kept her captive, stripped away her dignity and rights to bodily autonomy, and reduced her to nothing more than a pawn. With each story she told, my anger toward Cameron increased.
Locked like an animal under their bed? Chained up in the basement for weeks at a time and tortured with her greatest fears? Beaten and forced to perform for him at will?
It was hard to comprehend that she was still standing after all that. That fucking bastard. He’d pay for this. For every moment of heartache and torture he’d inflicted on her.
She ran out of steam and settled. Her breathing was no longer coming in short, ragged bursts. But I could feel the tension still humming beneath her skin, could see the war raging behind her eyes.
“There’s something else you need to know,” she said.
Her voice cracked, and she twisted her hands in her lap. Her fingers moved involuntarily under the pressure of whatever it was she was planning to say next. She winced as she pinched her thighs.
I took one of her hands in mine and brought it to my lips, and placed a small kiss on the underside of her wrist.
“When you’re ready,” I said.
Her gaze drifted toward the fireplace, but there was a hesitation in her eyes. “I know I mentioned them earlier, but he has…videos.”
My stomach dropped. Nik’s intel. Shit. And she wasn’t lying. Videos weren’t just proof. They were leverage. A conviction that would follow her everywhere. Nik hadn’t wanted to elaborate because once I knew, I wouldn’t be able to unknow it.
His hesitation made sense now. It was never about wanting to ensure they weren’t deepfakes or something like that. He knew I’d want details, and that I’d have to look at her knowing what Cameron had done.
She swallowed hard. “They are all of me…doing things that—God, it doesn’t matter what they were. They were awful. But the worst part isn’t even the footage.”
Her lips trembled as she blinked rapidly, fighting the tears she clearly didn’t want to let fall again.
“You are doing so good. You can tell us,” Pasha said softly.
I was beyond thankful for him then. Another rescue from him, because inside I was a hot fucking mess of rage.
“The worst part is the moments he filmed before and after,” she paused. “He made me say I was doing it because I wanted to. That I enjoyed it. That it was my choice. I disobeyed only once. That was enough. I learned my lesson.”
My stomach dropped. Her near-drowning experience? I wanted to ask, but didn’t want to interrupt her flow. I cocked my head to the side and studied her. That odd sense of déjà vu returned. I pushed it away, trying to focus on her words.
“No one would ever guess what was happening behind the camera,” she added quietly. “To anyone else, I look like I’m—” she choked “—like I’m enjoying it.”
I felt sick thinking about the horror of what she’d been forced to carry in silence.
“And if anything ever went to court…if I tried to fight or run…” Her voice broke. “Those tapes would make me look like a monster. He threatened to show them to Declan.”
Rage, white hot, coursed through me. Worse than when the guys and I had found Vanya’s rapists. Deeper than when I’d found the man who’d raped my mother and ended his life. She must have sensed it because she pulled back.
“I’m not a monster. Please, you have to believe me.”
Her shoulders trembled violently, and my eyes met Pasha’s. He shook his head. The poor kid was only beginning to see how evil people could be.
“Victoria, I need to know Declan’s schedule. If I were to send Marcus to pick him up or to intercept him and his nanny, what would be the best option? I need you to think. We have only one shot at this.”
“He’s currently at football camp. They are due home on the same day Cameron is supposed to pick me up.”
“I’ll need a description of both your son and his nanny. We’ll coordinate everything, pick them up before he picks you up.”