he twenty-fifth week, they found the traitor.
Not the nanny.
Not Sarah.
Someone closer.
Someone they never suspected.
And the betrayal was worse than they imagined.
---
It started with a mistake.
A small one. The kind of mistake that only mattered because they were looking for it.
A phone call. A number that didn't belong. A connection that shouldn't have existed.
Damien's team traced it back.
The traitor was someone who had been with them since the beginning.
Someone who had stood at their wedding.
Someone who had held their daughter.
Someone who had smiled and said all the right things.
---
"Who is it?" Christabel asked.
Damien's face was pale.
"You're not going to believe it."
"Try me."
He showed her the name.
Christabel stared.
"Marco."
"Marco."
"Your Marco?"
"Our Marco."
"Why?"
"I don't know. But I'm going to find out."
---
Marco had been with Damien for fifteen years.
Longer than anyone.
He had been there for the bodies. The basement. The empire.
He had been there for the wedding. The baby. The garden.
He had been there for everything.
And now he was the one trying to tear it all apart.
---
"I need to see him," Damien said.
"Alone?"
"Alone."
"No." Christabel shook her head. "Together."
"Christabel—"
"I'm not letting you face this alone. He was at our wedding. He held our daughter. He smiled at me and called me family."
"And now he's trying to destroy us."
"Then we destroy him first. Together."
---
They found Marco at a safe house on the other side of the city.
The same safe house where he had hidden after the war.
He was alone.
He was waiting.
He knew they would come.
"Damien," Marco said.
"Marco."
"Christabel."
"Marco."
"I'm sorry."
"No." Damien walked toward him. "You're not sorry. You're caught. There's a difference."
---
Marco sat on the couch.
His hands were shaking.
"I didn't want to hurt you."
"Then why did you?"
"Because I had no choice."
"Everyone has a choice."
"Not me."
"Why not?"
Marco looked at Christabel.
"Because they have my daughter."
---
The room went silent.
"Your daughter?" Christabel said.
"I have a daughter. From before. Before I worked for Damien. She lives with her mother in another country."
"We didn't know."
"No one knew. I kept her hidden. To protect her."
"From who?"
"From the people who are threatening her now."
---
Damien knelt in front of Marco.
"Who has your daughter?"
"I don't know. They contact me through intermediaries. They send me photographs. They tell me what to do."
"And what did they tell you to do?"
"To send the letters. The photographs. The threats."
"To us?"
"To you."
"Why?"
"Because they want to destroy you. Because they want to take everything you have."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
---
Christabel walked to Marco.
Stood in front of him.
"You've been with us for fifteen years. You've been family. And you betrayed us because someone threatened your daughter?"
"I didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice." Her voice was cold. "You could have come to us. You could have told us the truth. You could have let us help you."
"I was afraid."
"Of what?"
"Of losing her."
"And now?" Christabel asked. "Now you've lost us."
---
Damien stood.
"Where is your daughter now?"
"Safe. For now."
"Where?"
"I can't tell you."
"Marco—"
"If I tell you, they'll kill her."
"And if you don't tell us, I'll kill you."
Marco looked at him.
"I know."
"Then tell me."
"I can't."
---
Christabel put her hand on Damien's arm.
"Wait."
"He's not going to talk."
"Then we find another way."
"How?"
"We help him."
Damien stared at her.
"Help him?"
"He's been with us for fifteen years. He's family. And family doesn't abandon family."
"He betrayed us."
"He was trying to protect his daughter. Just like we're trying to protect ours."
---
Marco looked at Christabel.
Tears filled his eyes.
"You would help me? After everything?"
"You're going to tell us everything. Every name. Every contact. Every detail. And then we're going to find whoever is behind this. Together."
"Why?"
"Because that's what family does."
---
They spent the night at the safe house.
Marco talked.
He told them about the intermediaries. The encrypted messages. The photographs of his daughter that arrived every week to prove she was still alive.
He told them about the fear. The guilt. The sleepless nights.
"I'm sorry," he said again.
"I know," Damien said.
"I'm sorry for the letters. For the photographs. For making you afraid for your family."
"You were afraid for yours."
"That's not an excuse."
"No." Damien shook his head. "But it's a reason."
---
The next morning, they went home.
Lena was safe. The nanny was watching her.
Christabel held her daughter.
Pressed her face to Lena's soft hair.
"Someone is trying to tear our family apart," she whispered.
Lena cooed.
"They're using someone we love to do it."
Lena grabbed her finger.
Held on tight.
"But we're going to stop them."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's awake," he said.
"She's hungry."
"I'll make a bottle."
"She wants to nurse."
He walked to her.
Sat on the floor beside the rocking chair.
"Marco is going to help us find them."
"Can we trust him?"
"We have to."
"Why?"
"Because he's the only one who knows the way in."
---
Lena finished nursing.
Fell asleep against Christabel's chest.
"She's out," Christabel said.
"She's perfect."
"She's ours."
Damien stood.
Took Lena from her arms.
Laid her in the crib.
Then he walked back to Christabel.
Took her hand.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"The study."
---
They sat in the dark.
The city hummed below them.
"We're going to war," Damien said.
"I know."
"Not like before. This time, it's personal."
"It's always been personal."
"This time, they threatened our daughter."
She looked at him.
"Then we end them."
"Yes."
"Together?"