The Billionaire's Forgotten Wife
Chapter 67: Please... Don’t Take Her

Chapter 67: Please... Don’t Take Her

Trigger Warning: Gun violence, blood.

***

Still on the way home, Claire suddenly spoke from the back seat.

"Mommy, can we get the cake we had with Jonah and Freya that time?"

Cassidy glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "Cake? You want cake now?"

Claire nodded enthusiastically. "I want the one from that café."

Cassidy didn’t answer right away. She thought for a moment before replying, "You already had ice cream yesterday. You know you’re not supposed to have sweets every day, right?"

Claire’s face fell into a pout. Her lips trembled. "I’ll just have one bite. Just one. I’ll save the rest for later."

Cassidy’s resolve melted instantly. That pout always got her.

She sighed. "Okay, but you have to promise, only one bite."

"I promise, Mommy," Claire said quickly, eyes wide and hopeful.

"Alright," Cassidy gave in, smiling despite herself. "We’ll stop by the dessert cafe before heading back to the apartment."

Claire let out a loud cheer from the back seat. "Yay!"

Cassidy switched lanes and took a turn, steering the car toward the café they had visited before.

She found a parking spot nearby and pulled in. Hand in hand, she and Claire walked toward the entrance. The soft jingle of the doorbell greeted them as they stepped inside.

A young waitress smiled warmly and welcomed them. Cassidy gave a polite nod, and together they approached the glass display filled with rows of colorful, decadent cakes.

Claire’s eyes lit up as she scanned each one carefully, her finger pointing excitedly to her favorite.

Once she’d made her choice, Cassidy placed the order and paid at the counter, sneaking a glance at her daughter, who was already bouncing slightly on her toes, barely able to contain her excitement.

As they waited for the cake to be boxed for takeaway, Cassidy’s eyes wandered. Just in time, she caught sight of a young man stepping into the café, his head lowered.

Something about his posture felt wrong.

Before she could fully process it, the man pulled a gun from his pocket.

The sound of the first shot shattered the quiet air.

Cassidy froze.

Screams erupted. Chairs scraped. Cups shattered. People dove for cover. Instinct took over. She yanked Claire into her arms and dropped to the floor, shielding her daughter with her body.

Gunshots rang out, one after another.

Cassidy’s heart pounded so loud she could barely hear the chaos. Claire sobbed into her chest, trembling. Cassidy wrapped her tighter, one hand covering Claire’s eyes.

She took a quick look.

The gunman was firing at random, at tables, walls, people. The horror unfolding before her felt like a nightmare.

Then, just as suddenly, the man turned and stormed out of the cafe.

Cassidy waited only a second. Adrenaline propelled her to her feet. She grabbed Claire’s hand, ready to run.

She never saw it coming.

The gunman returned.

She heard the second round of gunshots too late. When she looked up, the man was back inside. His eyes were locked on her.

Everything slowed. He raised the gun. For a split second, Cassidy thought she was the target. Then the barrel shifted, lower. Aimed at Claire.

"No."

The shot fired.

Time cracked.

Cassidy screamed as Claire collapsed in her arms. Blood stained her dress, her hands, everything.

People scattered again. The gunman vanished. But Cassidy didn’t see him leave. All she could see was her daughter, her little girl. Motionless, bleeding, unmoving.

Cassidy screamed.

It was a raw, gut wrenching sound that cut through the chaos like a blade. The cafe rang with cries, shrieks, sobs, gasps of disbelief, and the broken wails of loved ones clinging to the fallen.

"No, Claire." Her voice cracked as she dropped to her knees. "Sweetheart, wake up. Please, baby, open your eyes."

Tears blurred her vision as she pressed both trembling hands against the wound on Claire’s small stomach, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Blood soaked through her fingers, warm and terrifying. Claire’s tiny body lay limp in her lap. Her breath was faint, her lashes damp with tears.

Cassidy choked back a sob. "It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Just hold on, okay? Stay with me. Please."

The distant wail of sirens grew louder. It cut through the noise like a promise. Someone had called for help.

Moments later, the glass doors flew open and officers rushed inside with weapons drawn. Paramedics followed, assessing the scene within seconds. Two young men in scrubs spotted Cassidy and ran toward her with a stretcher.

"She’s still breathing," one of them said quickly, kneeling beside them.

Cassidy didn’t move, still clutching Claire. "Please, she’s just a little girl," she sobbed. "Please help her. Please save my baby."

"We will, ma’am," the other medic said gently, reaching to lift Claire from her arms. "We’ve got her."

Carefully, they transferred Claire onto the stretcher. Her limp body was now covered in blood-streaked gauze. Cassidy stood and stumbled after them, her legs weak but her determination stronger.

She barely registered the other victims being carried out, lifeless forms on stretchers, and the blur of red and blue lights flickering through the café’s shattered windows.

Cassidy followed them outside, her voice trembling but firm.

"Help my daughter. Please, do whatever it takes."

One of the medics gave her a steady nod. "We’ll do everything we can."

And just like that, they were moving out of the café and into the ambulance.

Outside, chaos had exploded.

A crowd had already gathered, reporters with microphones, bystanders murmuring in shock, strangers holding up their phones to take videos and pictures. Sirens continued to wail. Police officers pushed through, setting up yellow tape and shouting commands.

"Step away from the scene."

"Put your phones down. This is an active investigation."

The flashing lights painted the street in red and blue. They cast eerie shadows across pale faces and trembling hands.

Inside the ambulance, Cassidy sat at the edge of the stretcher, holding Claire’s tiny, blood-slicked hand. With the other, she gently brushed strands of hair from Claire’s pale face. The little girl’s breathing was shallow. Her skin was clammy. Her lips were slightly parted.

Cassidy didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Her throat was raw from screaming. Her heart beat so loudly she thought it might drown out everything else.

Please. Please, God. Don’t take her. Please.

She didn’t know if her prayers were being heard. All she knew was that she had to keep saying them. Over and over again.

The paramedic sitting across from her gave a reassuring nod. "We’re almost there. Stay with her, ma’am. You’re doing great."

Cassidy didn’t answer. She just held Claire’s hand tighter, as if holding on could somehow anchor her daughter to life.

***