Sweet Revenge Of The Stolen Heiress

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 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 walked back 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."

Silas raised his hand, letting him know he should hold position. He watched his wife.

Genevieve stopped right in front of Kayleigh.

She looked at this woman — this person who had watched a small child suffer and done nothing, had participated in that suffering — and her voice, when she spoke, was colder than the rain.

"That girl is a Barrett," Genevieve said. "She is my daughter. She is the heir to an empire you cannot begin to comprehend. And you" — she let the silence stretch — "will spend the rest of your life knowing exactly what you threw away when you chose to treat her the way you did."

Kayleigh shrank back. The arrogance was completely gone, replaced by trembling fear. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Genevieve held her gaze for one more long moment. Then she turned away, as if Kayleigh were no longer worth her attention.

She walked back to the SUV, her steps steady and unhurried.

Tabitha, who had been watching from the mud, began to cry loudly. The guards kept the family contained as the Barrett security team completed their sweep of the property.

"Secure the perimeter," the security chief ordered into his radio. "Hold the Pruitts until the county sheriff arrives. We've already made the call."

Silas walked over to Genevieve. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a quiet kiss to her knuckles.

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 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.

"We're done here," Silas said. "Let's take our daughter home."

The guards completed their work as the Barretts' convoy prepared to depart. The Pruitt compound, with its dark history, grew smaller in the rearview mirror.