Maya's POV
"Don't move," James Walsh orders, his gun pointed at Derek and me.
His men surround us, blocking every exit from the coffee shop. Other customers scream and run for the doors, creating chaos.
"Dad, please—" Derek starts.
"Shut up." James's voice is ice. "You betrayed your own family. You destroyed everything I built. And for what? For her?"
"For the truth," Derek says firmly. "You're a murderer. You killed Uncle Michael. You killed Maya's mother. You deserve to pay for what you've done."
"I did what was necessary to protect our family," James says. "Something you're too weak to understand."
I back slowly toward the counter, looking for anything I can use as a weapon. A coffee pot. A knife. Anything.
"Maya, stop moving," James orders. "Or I'll shoot Derek first, then you."
I freeze.
"What do you want?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I want my grandson. The baby you're carrying. Sign custody over to me, and I'll let both of you live."
"Never," I say.
