Chapter 92

Chapter 92
Sloane's POV

Yesterday we managed to get rid of those guys, but I still felt uneasy about something. Early the next day, I was having breakfast with Saskia when the sound of horses thundered outside. Not the calm clip-clop of our usual visitors, but urgent, violent hoofbeats that made my stomach drop.

"What's that noise?" Saskia asked, looking up from her porridge with wide eyes.

Before I could answer, shouts erupted from the front courtyard. Then came the crash of splintering wood—our front door being forced open.

"Stay behind me," I whispered, pushing Saskia toward the kitchen's back exit. But we were too late.

Men in merchant clothes stormed into the dining room, but everything about them screamed military training. The way they moved, how their eyes swept the room for threats, the bulge of weapons beneath their supposedly innocent clothing.

"Miss Stewart," their leader said with a cold smile. "We're here for your protection."

Protection. Right.

"The royal investigation is coming," he continued, stepping closer. "Dangerous times require dangerous measures. The Shadow organization has offered the Stewart family sanctuary."

Shadow. My blood turned to ice. These were Eloise's people.

"We don't need protection," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "We have our own security."

The man laughed. "You mean that stable boy? The housemaid?" His smile turned sharp. "We know exactly who you've got working here, Miss Stewart. Alexander's little spies won't help you now."

They know about Nico and Elena. How?

That's when I noticed Saskia wasn't beside me anymore.

"Saskia!" I spun around frantically, but she was nowhere in the dining room.

"Looking for this?" Another man appeared in the doorway, holding Saskia by the shoulder. She looked terrified, tears streaming down her face.

"Let her go," I demanded, taking a step forward.

"I'm afraid that's not possible." The leader pulled out a folded paper. "The girl is coming with us. Insurance, you understand."

"Sloane!" Saskia called out, reaching for me as they pulled her toward the door.

No. Not Saskia. Anyone but Saskia.

I lunged forward, but two men grabbed my arms, holding me back. "Let me go! She's just a child!"

"The child will be perfectly safe," the leader said, "as long as Sophia comes to the abandoned church by midnight. Alone. No guards, no prince, no backup. Just you."

They were dragging Saskia away, and she was crying, calling my name. The sound tore through my chest like a knife.

"Don't hurt her," I begged. "Please, she's innocent in all this."

"Midnight, Miss Stewart. The old church on the north ridge. Come alone, or the girl dies."

And then they were gone, taking Saskia with them.

I collapsed to my knees on the dining room floor, my whole body shaking. This is my fault. Everything that's happened to this family is my fault.

Juan found me there twenty minutes later, still kneeling in the wreckage of our morning.

"Sophia? What happened? Where's Saskia?"

I looked up at him, this broken man who had already lost so much, and felt something inside me die. "They took her. The Shadow organization. They want me to come to some church by midnight."

Juan's face went white, then red, then white again. For a moment he just stood there, swaying like he might fall over.

"No," he whispered. "No, not Saskia too."

Then he exploded.

"This is because of you!" he screamed, grabbing a chair and hurling it against the wall. "Everything was fine before you came here! Eloise, Zaid, Vincent—all of it started when you showed up!"

I flinched, but I couldn't argue. He was right.

"My daughter is gone because of whatever secrets you're keeping!" Juan's eyes were wild, desperate. "My little girl is going to die because you brought these people into our lives!"

"Juan, I—"

"Don't!" He pointed a shaking finger at me. "Don't you dare make excuses. I trusted you. I welcomed you into my family. And you've destroyed everything."

He's right. I've destroyed everything I've touched.

Juan stormed out, but I could hear him in the hallway, shouting orders to anyone who would listen. "Find her! Search every building, every room! Someone in this house is working with them!"

He's lost it. The stress, losing Saskia—it's broken him completely.

I sat on the floor, staring at Saskia's half-eaten breakfast. She'd been making little shapes with her porridge, the way she always did. Now it was just cold mush, abandoned.

I have to save her. Whatever it costs, I have to get her back.

But how? They'd said no guards, no backup. If I brought Nico or Elena, they'd kill Saskia. If I went alone, they'd kill us both.

Think, Sloane. You're not just some helpless victim anymore. You've survived everything else. Figure this out.

A soft knock on the door interrupted my spiral. Elena—Anna—peeked in, her face carefully neutral.

"Miss Stewart? I heard what happened."

I looked at her, this young woman who I now knew could probably kill me with her bare hands. "They knew about you. About all of Alexander's people. How is that possible?"

Elena's expression darkened. "Someone's been feeding them information. Someone close to the family."

My stomach dropped. "You think there's another traitor?"

"I think this operation has been planned for a very long time. They knew exactly when to strike, exactly how to hurt you most."

Saskia. They took Saskia because they knew I'd do anything to save her.

"What do I do?" I asked quietly. "They want me to come alone."

"You don't," Elena said firmly. "You let us handle this."

"And if they kill her when I don't show up?"

Elena was quiet for a long moment. "There might be another way. But it would require you to trust us completely."

Before she could explain, footsteps pounded down the hallway. Juan appeared in the doorway, his face flushed and his breathing ragged.

"You," he said, pointing at Elena. "You're one of them, aren't you? One of the spies."

Elena's hand moved almost imperceptibly toward her waist. "Sir, I don't know what you mean."

"Don't lie to me!" Juan stepped into the room. "My security chief just told me we hired a stable hand and a housemaid on the same day, both with perfect references but no real history. That's not a coincidence."

He's figured it out. And he's about to blow Elena's cover.

"Juan, please—" I started.

"No! I want the truth. Who sent you? Who are you really working for?"

Elena looked at me, and I saw the question in her eyes. Do we tell him?

I made the decision. Juan had already lost everything. Maybe it was time he knew why.

"She works for Alexander," I said quietly. "The prince sent people to protect us."

Juan stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "The prince? Why would the prince—" Then his eyes widened. "Goddess. You really are connected to the royal family."

"It's complicated," I said.

"Complicated?" Juan let out a bitter laugh. "My stepdaughter is locked in a dungeon for treason, my fake son turned out to be my wife's lover, my real daughter is dead, and now I find out my other fake daughter is sleeping with a prince. Complicated doesn't begin to cover it."

Elena stepped forward. "Sir, with respect, we don't have time for this. Every minute we waste arguing is a minute they have to prepare. We need to move now if we're going to save Saskia."

"Save her how?" Juan demanded. "They said no backup. They'll kill her if—"

"They're going to kill her anyway," Elena said bluntly. "This isn't about negotiation. It's about eliminating witnesses and sending a message."

She's right. They never intended to let Saskia go.

Juan sank into a chair, suddenly looking ancient. "Then she's already dead."

"No," I said, standing up. "She's not. I won't let her be."

Something had changed in me during the last hour. The helpless girl who'd arrived at this estate months ago was gone. The woman who'd been content to let others fight her battles was gone too.

I'm done hiding. I'm done waiting for rescue.

"Elena," I said, "tell me about this other way."

Twenty minutes later, I understood the plan. It was dangerous, possibly suicidal, but it was the only chance Saskia had.

The Shadow organization expected me to come alone and defenseless. Instead, I'd come alone and very much not defenseless. Elena had been teaching me combat techniques disguised as "morning exercise routines." I wasn't an expert, but I wasn't helpless either.

More importantly, Nico and the other operatives would already be in position around the church. Not as my backup—they'd stay hidden no matter what happened to me—but as Saskia's rescue team.

"The moment they bring her out," Elena explained, "our priority shifts to her extraction. You'll be a distraction."

A distraction. Meaning they'll sacrifice me to save her.

I was okay with that.

"There's something else," Elena said quietly. "Alexander left instructions. If the situation became critical, I was to give you this."

She pulled out a small velvet pouch. Inside was a ring—not fancy, but unmistakably royal. The king's seal was engraved in the gold.

"He said to tell you that no matter what happens, you're under royal protection. That seal will identify you as someone connected to the crown."

I stared at the ring, feeling how heavy it was. Alexander's promise. Even when he can't be here, he's still trying to protect me.

"Will it help?" I asked.

"It might. If they're planning to kill you publicly, royal connection could make them hesitate."

Or it could make them more determined. But I slipped the ring into my pocket anyway.

At least Saskia will be safe. That's what matters.

As the sun set, I found Juan in his study. He was sitting at his desk, staring at a portrait of his family from happier times. Eloise, Zaid, Saskia, and Sophia—all smiling, all unaware of the destruction coming.

"I'm sorry," I said from the doorway.

He didn't look up. "For which part? For lying about who you were? For bringing assassins to my door? For getting my daughter kidnapped?"

Each word stung, but I deserved it.

"For all of it," I said. "You deserved better. Saskia deserved better."

Juan was quiet for a long time. Then, softly: "She loves you, you know. More than she ever loved Sophia. You gave her something Sophia never could—strength."

I felt tears starting. "I love her too."

"Then bring her home."

I nodded and turned to leave, but Juan's voice stopped me.

"Sloane."

I looked back.

"Don't you dare die on me. That little girl has lost enough people."

So have you, I thought. But I just nodded.

Elena found me in the garden as the clock struck eleven. She was dressed in all black, weapons hidden but clearly present.

"Ready?"

I looked up at the manor, at the windows where Alexander's ring had arrived with his letter months ago. Where Saskia had laughed and played and slowly learned to trust me. Where Juan had finally accepted me as family, just in time to watch me destroy everything.

"No," I said. "But let's go anyway."

As we walked toward the stables where Nico would provide horses, I felt something strange. Not fear—I was terrified. Not confidence—I had no idea if this would work.

Purpose. For the first time since I'd arrived here, I knew exactly who I was and what I was fighting for.

Not revenge. Not secrets. Not even love.

Family. The family I'd chosen, and who had chosen me back.

Hold on, Saskia. I'm coming.

The abandoned church waited in the darkness, and with it, the final confrontation that would determine whether the Stewart family had any future at all.

Alexander, wherever you are, I hope you understand. I hope you know I'm doing this because of everything you taught me about love.

Sometimes love means walking into the darkness alone.