Nic’s POV
The warehouse reeked of damp concrete and fear. She was there—the woman who had joined forces with Clara in plotting Sienna’s accident. Tied to a chair, wrists raw from struggling, eyes wide with desperation. Her muffled whimpers turned into frantic pleas the moment I ripped the strap from her mouth.
“Please, please let me go. It was Clara’s doing, not mine,” she cried.
“Good to know you’re aware of the crime that put you here,” I said, my voice cold, deliberate.
“Please, Mr. Steele…” she begged, her words breaking into sobs.
“You’re going to testify against Clara.” I leaned closer, my eyes pinning her in place.
“I can’t. She’ll kill my son,” she whispered, trembling.
“Good,” I said, standing tall. “Because if she doesn’t… I will.”
Her gasp filled the silence. “Please don
