Chapter 7

Kayleigh pushed herself up from the mud. Her clothes were soaked, and her face was smeared with dirt. She looked at Clare walking away, wrapped in the expensive coat.

A toxic mix of humiliation and pure jealousy boiled over inside her.

"She's a poison seed!" Kayleigh screamed at the top of her lungs. Her voice was shrill and desperate. "She's cursed! She'll drag your whole fancy family straight to hell! You're going to lose everything because of that little freak!"

Genevieve had just reached the door of the SUV. She stopped.

She slowly turned around.

The elegant, refined society wife was gone. In her place stood a mother whose child had just been threatened. Her eyes were dark and completely devoid of warmth.

Genevieve let go of the car door. She started walking toward Kayleigh. Her high heels sank into the mud with every step, but she didn't care. Her posture was rigid, her shoulders squared.

The head of security stepped forward, raising a hand. "Mrs. Barrett, let us handle-"

Silas raised his hand, cutting the man off. He watched his wife with a dark, approving look.

Genevieve stopped right in front of Kayleigh.

Before Kayleigh could open her mouth to speak again, Genevieve raised her hand and swung.

Smack.

The slap was incredibly loud. It echoed across the silent yard. The force of the blow snapped Kayleigh's head to the side. She spun in a half-circle and stumbled, barely keeping her balance. A bright red handprint instantly bloomed on her pale cheek.

Kayleigh gasped, touching her face in shock.

Genevieve didn't hesitate. She backhanded Kayleigh across the other cheek.

Kayleigh cried out. Her lip split open, and a drop of blood ran down her chin.

Genevieve grabbed a fistful of Kayleigh's wet, tangled hair. She yanked her head back, forcing Kayleigh to look her directly in the eyes.

"That girl is a Barrett," Genevieve said. Her voice was a low, deadly hiss. "She is my daughter. She is the heir to an empire you cannot even comprehend. If you ever speak her name again, I will personally cut your tongue out of your head."

Kayleigh whimpered. The arrogance was completely gone, replaced by raw, trembling fear. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "Please."

Genevieve released her hair with a look of utter disgust. She wiped her hands on her expensive slacks, as if touching Kayleigh had contaminated her.

Tabitha saw her daughter bleeding. She let out a scream and lunged forward, picking up a heavy rock from the mud. She aimed for the back of Genevieve's head.

The head of security drew his sidearm. A sharp, suppressed 'thump' cut the air.

Tabitha screamed and dropped the rock. She collapsed into the mud, clutching her right knee. Blood poured through her jeans.

The head of security lowered his smoking pistol. He had shot her perfectly in the kneecap. Non-lethal, but permanently crippling.

The sound of the gunshot sent a flock of birds scattering from the nearby trees. It shattered the last ounce of resistance the Pruitt family had. They were completely broken.

"Secure the perimeter," the security chief ordered into his radio. "Tie the men to the trees. Leave the women in the mud."

The guards moved quickly, dragging Enoch and the other men toward the heavy oak trees at the edge of the property.

Silas walked over to Genevieve. He took her hand, the one she had used to slap Kayleigh. He lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently.

Clare watched them from the SUV. She felt a strange, tight sensation in her chest. It wasn't pain. It was the feeling of a massive, empty hole finally being filled.

In her past life, she had always felt alone. Now, she saw what absolute, unconditional protection looked like.

Clare stepped away from the car. She walked through the mud and slipped her small hand into Genevieve's.

Genevieve looked down. She squeezed Clare's hand tightly, holding on as if she was afraid Clare would vanish into thin air.

Silas crouched down. He looked into Clare's eyes. "Did the loud noise scare you, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

Clare shook her head. Her expression was completely calm. "No. I want to go home now."

Silas nodded. He scooped her up into his arms again. He turned toward the vehicles.

"Burn it down," Silas said over his shoulder.

As Silas carried Clare into the back of the armored SUV, the guards began pouring gasoline over the wooden porches of the Pruitt houses.