The twenty-sixth week, they went to war.
Not with an army.
With a plan.
With a traitor who wanted redemption.
And with nothing left to lose.
---
The war council was held in the study.
Not the one in the penthouse. A different one. A hidden one. The kind of room that didn't exist on any blueprint.
Marco was there. Sarah was there. Damien's most trusted lieutenants were there.
And Christabel.
She sat at the head of the table.
Not Damien. Her.
"This is my war now," she had said. "They threatened my daughter. They made it personal."
Damien had nodded.
No argument.
No protest.
Just, "Then you lead."
---
"The first thing we need to know," Christabel said, "is who we're fighting."
Marco stood.
"I've been trying to find out. For months. Every time I get close, the trail goes cold."
"Because they know you're looking."
"Because they're better at hiding than I am at finding."
"Then we need someone else to look."
"Who?"
She looked at Sarah.
"My sister."
---
Sarah's eyes widened.
"Me?"
"You're not in their files. You're not on their radar. You're not anyone they're watching."
"I'm your sister."
"They don't know that."
"Everyone knows that."
"No." Christabel shook her head. "Everyone knows Christabel Vance has a sister. No one knows what she looks like. No one knows what she does. No one knows she's been helping me run my company for years."
"You want me to go undercover."
"I want you to help us find the people who threatened my daughter."
Sarah was quiet for a moment.
Then she nodded.
"Okay."
---
The plan took shape over the next few hours.
Marco would feed false information to his handlers. Make them think Damien and Christabel were falling apart. Make them think the marriage was crumbling. Make them think the empire was vulnerable.
Sarah would follow the information back to its source. Track the messages. Trace the payments. Find the people behind the threats.
And Damien and Christabel would wait.
The hardest part.
"Waiting is not my strength," Damien said.
"Waiting is no one's strength," Christabel replied. "But it's necessary."
"What do we do while we wait?"
"We protect our daughter. We protect each other. We remember why we're fighting."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
She read her daughter a story. Not a baby book. A real story. One of her favorites.
"There was a woman who was afraid of nothing," she read. "Until she had a daughter. Then she was afraid of everything."
Lena stared at her.
"Bah," she said.
"That's right," Christabel said. "Bah."
---
Damien was in the doorway.
"She said it again."
"She said it to me."
"She said it to both of us."
She closed the book.
Set it on the nightstand.
"She's going to be strong."
"She's going to be just like you."
"God help the world."
"God help anyone who tries to hurt her."
---
They stood over the crib together.
Lena was asleep. Her tiny chest rose and fell.
"I'm scared," Christabel said.
"Of what?"
"Of losing. Of failing. Of not being able to protect her."
"You're not going to fail."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're her mother. Because you're my wife. Because you're the strongest person I know."
"I don't feel strong."
"You don't have to feel strong. You just have to keep going."
---
The next morning, Sarah left.
She hugged Christabel at the door.
"I'll find them," Sarah said.
"I know you will."
"I'll bring them down."
"I know you will."
"And I'll come home."
Christabel pulled her sister into her arms.
"You better."
---
The waiting began.
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks turned into something that felt like forever.
Christabel watched the door. Watched the phone. Watched her daughter.
Damien watched her.
"You're going to drive yourself crazy," he said.
"I'm already crazy."
"You're anxious."
"I'm terrified."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
She started sleeping in the nursery.
Not because Lena needed her. Because she needed Lena.
Every breath. Every movement. Every sound.
She needed to know her daughter was safe.
"She's fine," Damien said.
"You don't know that."
"I know that you're exhausting yourself."
"I don't care."
"I care."
She looked at him.
"Then help me."
"How?"
"By being here. By not leaving. By not letting me do this alone."
---
He moved into the nursery with her.
Not because he needed to.
Because she needed him to.
They slept on the floor. On a mattress they had dragged in from the guest room.
Lena slept in her crib.
Between them.
Safe.
---
Sarah called on a Tuesday.
"I found them."
Christabel's heart stopped.
"Who?"
"A group. An organization. People who have been trying to take down Damien for years."
"Names?"
"I have some. Not all. But enough."
"Enough for what?"
"Enough to start."
---
Damien took the phone.
"Give me the names."
Sarah gave him the names.
His face didn't change.
But his hands tightened around the phone.
"I know these people," he said.
"Who are they?"
"Old enemies. People I thought I'd destroyed years ago."
"You didn't destroy them."
"No." He set down the phone. "I only made them stronger."
---
That night, Christabel held Lena.
Tighter than usual.
Longer than usual.
"I'm going to war," she whispered.
Lena cooed.
"Not a business war. A real war. The kind where people die."
Lena grabbed her finger.
Held on tight.
"I'm not going to let them hurt you. I'm not going to let them hurt our family."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's asleep," he said.
"She's safe."
"For now."
"For always."
He walked to her.
Took her hand.
"Are you ready?"
"I've been ready."
"For what?"
"To fight."