Chapter 53 Olivia
OLIVIA
The jeep hits a pothole and I lurch forward, catching myself on the seat in front of me. My hands haven’t stopped quivering since I left the manor.
What have I done?
The right thing, I tell myself silently in answer to my own question. You’re doing the right thing.
Mikayla sits beside me. She’s quiet for once, peering out of the window as the city gives way to suburbs, then to countryside, wide-eyed and wondrous as if she never expected to see the outside world again.
The armed men in the front seat don’t speak a word, either. They just drive.
I pull out my phone. It’s still off. I should turn it on. I should call Stefan. I should tell him this was all a mistake, that I panicked, that I didn’t mean to—
“Don’t.”
I look up. Mikayla is watching me.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t call him. Not yet.”
“I need to explain—”
“You need to think. That’s what you need to do. Really, truly think long and hard about what you’re doing.”
After a moment of hesitation, I pocket the phone. She’s right. I don’t know what I’d even say to him. Sorry I broke you out of prison and ran away with the woman who betrayed you? Oopsie-daisy?
The only thing I need to do is remember that recording. That’s what locks me back into place. He doesn’t care about me—only the baby. Only his heir.
The jeep turns onto a dirt road. Trees close in on either side. We drive for another ten minutes, bumping uncomfortably down the unpaved path, before pulling up to a farmhouse.
It’s old and half-renovated. There are tarps draped over parts of the roof and scaffolding sagging against one wall, like whoever was working on it simply left one day a long time ago and never came back. But the windows are intact and smoke curls from the chimney.
The driver kills the engine. “We’re here.” It’s the first thing he’s said since he picked us up.
Mikayla gets out first. I follow on shaky legs. The air smells like pine and wet earth. It’s quiet out here. Eerily still in every direction.
One of the armed men leads us to the front door. He knocks twice, then pushes it open.
Natalia is waiting inside.
She looks different than she did at the hotel. Less polished, as if she’s fraying in some strange way from the inside out. Her hair is down, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She’s wearing baggy mom jeans and a sweater with a ragged, unfinished hem.
“Olivia!” She crosses the room and pulls me into a hug. “Thank God you’re safe.”
I stand there, frozen, unsure how to react. Her arms are warm and her lavender perfume fills my nose. It should be comforting. But all I feel is numb.
She pulls back and cups my face in her hands. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”
“No. I’m fine.”
She looks at my face for a moment longer, then nods. “Come. Sit. You must be exhausted.” She glances over my shoulder and some of the warmth leaves her voice. “Mikayla, go upstairs. Get some rest. We’ll talk later.”
She turns her back on Mikayla as if that’s the end of things and guides me to a worn leather couch. I sink into it. Mikayla clomps up the stairs and disappears.
Natalia pours me a glass of water from a pitcher on the coffee table. “Drink. You need to stay hydrated.”
I take the glass but don’t drink. “What is this place?”
“A safe house. One of many I keep for emergencies.”
“How long have you been planning this?”
She sits beside me. “A while. I knew I’d need somewhere to go once Stefan found out I was alive.”
“He knows now.”
“Yes. Which is why we need to act quickly.”
I set the glass down, then stand and walk to the window. My legs are weak and unsteady, but I feel too restless to sit. My skin buzzes with a strange sense of unease. Obviously, I’ve made irreversible choices, but it’s not that.
Well, not just that. Something else in my gut is screaming with wrongness.
“‘Act,’” I repeat. “What does that mean? What happens now?”
Natalia joins me at the window. “Now,” she says gently, “we make sure Stefan can’t hurt any of us anymore.”
I turn to her slowly. “What do you mean?”
She meets my gaze. “Come now, Olivia. You can’t be that naive. The man lied to you. He used you. He imprisoned Mikayla. He tried to kill me. We have to do something about him before he finishes the job on all of us.”
My blood runs cold. “He’s your son!”
“He ceased to be my son the day he tried to kill me.”
“No!” The word rips out of me. “You can’t kill him. I won’t allow it.”
Natalia’s gaze holds mine—endless, unblinking. The seconds stretch into an eternity.
Then something shifts in her face. The ice cracks. Her hardened lines melt into something that might pass for tenderness if I didn’t know better. “You really do love him, don’t you?”
“Please, Natalia, don’t do this. I’ll make him listen. He won’t hurt you if I ask him not to.”
“Olivia—”
“Please.” I grab her hands. “I know he’s done terrible things. I know he’s not perfect. But he’s still the father of my child. And I... I love him. I can’t lose him.”
For a moment, I think she’s going to agree. That she’s going to tell me everything will be okay.
Then she snaps her fingers. Two of the armed men appear in the doorway.
“Take her to the cattle shed,” Natalia snarls.
“What?” I step back. “No. Wait—”
The men grab my arms. I struggle but they’re too strong.
“Natalia, please!”
She doesn’t look at me. Just turns back to the window. “I’m sorry, Olivia. But I can’t let you warn him.”
“You lied to me!”
“No. I told you exactly what I was going to do. You just didn’t want to hear it.”
The men drag me toward the door. I dig my heels in, but it doesn’t matter. They’re too strong.
“You’re just like him!” I scream. “You’re both monsters!”
Natalia doesn’t respond. She just stands there, silhouetted against the dying light.
The men haul me outside. The cattle shed is fifty yards from the house. It’s old and dilapidated, with rusted hinges and gaps in the walls. They throw me inside. I hit the ground hard, my hands scraping against dirt and straw.
The door slams shut behind me. I hear the lock thud into place.
I scramble to my feet and pound on the door. “Let me out! Natalia! Please!”
No answer.
I sink to the ground, my back against the wall. Tears stream down my face. I was such a fool. I trusted her. I believed her lies.
And now, Stefan is going to die because of me.
I pull out my phone with shaking hands. It’s still off. I turn it on and wait for it to boot up.
Please work. Please, please work.
The screen lights up. No signal. Of course. We’re in the middle of freaking nowhere.
I try anyway. I dial Stefan’s number and hold the phone to my ear. Nothing. Not even a ring. I try Taras. Camille. Even my mother. Nothing works.
I’m trapped. And Stefan has no idea what’s coming for him.
I wrap my arms around my knees and rock back and forth. My daughter kicks inside me. A tiny, helpless twinge that breaks my heart.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
I don’t know if I’m talking to her or to Stefan.
Maybe both.