YOU ARE WHAT I NEED [COMPLETED]

14

Cathy Mother's POV

The memory played out vividly in Cathy Devereux's mind, as if it were just yesterday.

She was sitting in the grand parlor of their family estate, the air thick with the scent of fresh roses from the garden. The soft, golden light of late afternoon filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Cathy's husband was still in his study, too weak to join them, but his presence lingered in the house, a constant reminder of their family's slowly fading strength.

Mark stood before her, his face a careful mask of sincerity. He had just asked for Claire's hand in marriage, his voice steady but lacking the warmth she'd hoped for. Cathy studied him with a critical eye, her instincts screaming at her to be cautious. There was something about him that unsettled her, something that reminded her of a man she despised—a man she had spent years trying to forget.

But when she looked at Claire, saw the way her daughter's eyes sparkled with happiness, a happiness she hadn't seen in months since her father's illness had taken hold, Cathy's resolve faltered. She knew how much this man meant to her daughter, how he had been a light in her life during such a dark time.

Cathy forced a smile and nodded. "I accept, Mark," she said, her voice firm but laced with an undertone of warning. "But understand this: if you want to marry Claire, you must always protect her. Bring her no harm."

Mark had nodded eagerly, a smile spreading across his face. "Of course, Mrs. Devereux. I would never hurt Claire."

But Cathy had seen the fleeting shadow in his eyes, the insincerity he tried so hard to hide. She had known, deep down, that he wasn't to be trusted. Still, she had tried to push the doubt aside for her daughter's sake.

"I mean it, Mark," she had added, her voice dropping to a near whisper, yet each word cut through the room like a knife. "If you do anything—anything—to hurt my daughter, I will kill you myself."

Mark had laughed then, a nervous chuckle, clearly taking her words as nothing more than an overprotective mother's jest. He hadn't realized how serious she was.

The flashback faded, and Cathy found herself back in the present, sitting at her ornate desk in her office. The room was dark, lit only by the flickering flames of the fireplace. She was deep in thought, her mind churning over the recent revelations that had shattered the fragile peace she had tried so hard to maintain.

Suddenly, the door to her office burst open, and her sister, Evelyn, stormed in, her face a mask of fury.

"This could have all been avoided, Cathy!" Evelyn snapped, slamming the door behind her. "If you had just told Claire the truth about her lineage, none of this would have happened!"

Cathy flinched, but she quickly steeled herself, rising to face her sister. "And what would that have done, Evelyn? Do you think telling her about our past, about what she really is, would have made her life any easier?"

"It would have prevented her from marrying the son of a slayer!" Evelyn shot back, her voice trembling with anger. "She would have known what to look out for, who to avoid! But instead, you let her walk blindly into this nightmare."

Cathy clenched her fists, trying to keep her composure. She knew her sister was right. If she had only dug deeper into Mark's past, if she had only been more vigilant, it wouldn't have taken her a second to go against the marriage. She had failed her daughter—failed her miserably.

But she had been so consumed with grief after her husband's death, so desperate to escape the pain, that she had abandoned Claire when she needed her most. The guilt gnawed at her every day, a constant reminder of her failure. And then, when she had finally sent her men to check on Claire, hoping to find her happy and safe, they had returned with a video that shattered her heart—a video of Mark slapping Claire across the face.

"I did what I thought was best," Cathy whispered, her voice laced with regret. "But I was wrong."

Evelyn's gaze softened slightly, but the anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface. "You need to make this right, Cathy. Claire deserves better than this."

"I know," Cathy replied, her voice firmer now. "And I will make it right."

Once her sister left, Cathy took a deep breath, gathering her strength. She couldn't afford to dwell on her mistakes any longer. There was work to be done. She left her office and made her way to the basement, where Mark was being held.

She entered the dimly lit room, the heavy door creaking shut behind her. Mark was slumped against the wall, unconscious, his face bruised and swollen from the rough treatment he had received. Cathy walked over to him and slapped him hard across the face, jolting him awake.

Mark groaned, his eyes slowly focusing on her. "What... what do you want?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Cathy's eyes blazed with fury. "I know exactly who you are, Mark. And I know why you've been treating my daughter the way you have."

Mark's eyes widened in fear, but he quickly masked it with a sneer. "You don't know anything."

"Oh, but I do," Cathy said, her voice deadly calm. "I know about your secret family, Mark. Your 'true love' and the children you've been hiding from my daughter. You think I don't know why you've been abusive to her? You resent her because she's not them. Because you were forced into this marriage to get closer to me and the rest of the supernaturals."

Mark tried to move, but the restraints held him in place. Cathy pulled out her phone and played a video, showing Mark's secret family—his wife, his children, laughing and playing in a park, completely unaware of the danger they were in.

"Since you've touched my daughter, I will hurt all of them," Cathy hissed, her voice dripping with venom.

Mark's eyes filled with terror, but he tried to retaliate, struggling weakly against his restraints. Cathy only laughed, a cold, bitter sound that echoed in the room.

"You're pathetic," she said, turning to her guards. "Do your worst."

As she walked out of the room, leaving Mark to his fate, Cathy felt a grim satisfaction settle over her. She had made many mistakes, but this—this was one she would make right. She headed back to her office, ready to face whatever came next.

She had failed her daughter once. She would not fail her again.