When Child Protective Services showed up to take my son, my sister couldn’t hide her smirk. She had spent months telling anyone who would listen that my Navy service made me an unfit parent. Instead of fighting back or arguing, I quietly handed the caseworker three folders. That single move changed everything.

I slowly lowered my weapon to the concrete floor and dropped the folders.

"I should have known you were on their payroll, Dana," I said without turning around.

Dana let out a shaky breath, keeping the gun pressed to my skull.

"I'm not on their payroll, Rachel," she replied softly.

"They have my daughter."

The revelation hit me like a physical blow.

The contractors were blackmailing the CPS investigator to rig the case against me.

"If I don't deliver you and these files to them, my little girl is dead," Dana sobbed.

I slowly raised my hands and turned around to face her.

Tears were streaming down her face, and her hands were trembling violently.

"Dana, look at me," I said with fierce authority.

"If you give them these files, they will kill both of us and our children."

"They cannot leave loose ends."

She hesitated, her finger shaking on the trigger.

"I can get them back," I promised her.

"I am a Navy Commander, and I know exactly how to dismantle these people."

"But I need you to trust me right now."

Dana looked at the three folders on the ground.

Slowly, she lowered her weapon and collapsed against the side of the van.

"He's inside the van," Dana whispered, pointing to the back doors.

"There are two armed mercenaries in the front seats."

I picked up my gun and nodded at her.

"Stay here and keep your head down," I ordered.

I crept along the side of the van and positioned myself by the driver's side window.

I didn't bother knocking.

I shattered the glass with the butt of my pistol and dragged the driver out by his collar.

Before the passenger could draw his weapon, I had my gun pointed directly between his eyes.

"Step out of the vehicle, or I will end you," I snarled.

The mercenary raised his hands and stepped out slowly.

I handcuffed them both to a concrete pillar using zip ties from my tactical bag.

I ripped open the back doors of the van to find Eli safely asleep in the backseat.

“Which daughter is yours?” should have been a harmless question

The first wineglass shattered at 8:07 p.m

The moment the mafia boss’s wife called me “an illiterate servant,”

But our victory was cut short when the garage elevator dinged brightly.

Judge Thorne stepped out, flanked by my sister Monica and four heavily armed guards.

Chapter 8 - The Double Cross