Chapter 26
Hazel
I lay flat on my back in the massive bed at the center of the room, surrounded by darkness so thick it felt solid.
My hands rested on my stomach, feeling the warmth of the little life growing inside me.
Usually, this simple gesture brought me happiness and peace. But now, that magic was gone.
I couldn't sleep.
Now I understood a fraction of Viktor's suffering. Insomnia was torture.
Every time I closed my eyes, the reel started playing. Valentina tumbling down those marble stairs. The dark red blood pooling beneath her. The doctor's final verdict outside the ER at the private hospital.
These images had been driving me insane for two days straight.
I was certain I hadn't touched her. She fell on her own. Hell, that smile and that warning right before she went down—it looked deliberate.
But none of that mattered anymore.
Whatever her intentions were, whether it was an accident or some sick game to make me suffer, the damage was done.
And it couldn't be undone.
Valentina had played too hard. She'd lost her baby.
I traced circles on my belly, trying to imagine that kind of loss.
If someone told me I was going to lose this child, that I'd never feel life growing inside me again—what would I do?
I'd lose my mind.
Valentina must have needed serious guts to pull something like that. She'd risked everything, gambled away her chance at motherhood, all to push me out of Viktor's life.
And why? Because she loved him. Because she wanted to be by his side.
Love was fucking absurd.
It made people crazy. Reckless.
And Valentina's gamble had paid off.
I hadn't seen Viktor in two days. He hadn't set foot in this room. No texts. No messages passed through staff. Nothing.
Like I'd vanished from his world entirely.
He probably hated me now.
I was exhausted.
Exhausted from being misunderstood, blamed, with no way to defend myself. Exhausted from wanting to reach him while watching him pull further away.
I was the third wheel. Awkward and unnecessary.
Viktor and Valentina were the perfect match. Same background, same world, same language. Both raised in mafia families, fluent in power plays and survival in blood and violence.
And I was just an intruder. Some clueless girl from the slums.
I didn't understand their world, their rules, their power games. All I could do was shake when danger came, cry when I got hurt, freeze when I was misunderstood.
I was starting to wonder if I should just leave.
Walk away from this crowded triangle, let them have each other, end this circus.
Maybe that was better for everyone.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Hazel, it's me." Margaret's lowered voice came through the door.
I didn't answer right away. I blinked in the darkness, feeling dried tears on my cheeks.
When had I cried? I couldn't even remember.
"Come in, Margaret." I wiped my face and cleared my throat.
The door opened. Margaret pushed in a silver cart.
She looked exhausted from the shift changes, her uniform collar less crisp than usual.
But she still managed a smile as she brought the tray to the small table by the window. Steaming soup, two slices of golden toast, a fresh salad.
"You haven't eaten all day, Hazel. You need to eat. For the baby." Margaret held out the silver spoon.
I stared at the soup, feeling nothing. My digestive system was on strike.
"I can't, Margaret." I shook my head, didn't take the spoon. "I'm sorry, I just... I can't eat anything right now."
Margaret sighed heavily and set the spoon down. She sat on the edge of the bed and patted my hand.
"Young people never understand how important being healthy is. You, Viktor—both the same." Worry filled her voice. "Viktor hasn't eaten in two days either. He's locked himself in his room, living on black coffee. What are you two doing to yourselves?"
My heart clenched.
Viktor hadn't eaten in two days. Losing the baby must have hit him hard.
The more I understood that, the less I could face him.
Margaret stepped closer and touched my arm with her rough hand.
"Go see him, Hazel. Tell him to take care of himself." Her tone turned urgent. "Since Miss Anya left, you're the only one in this manor who can get through to him."
"I..." My mouth opened, but nothing came out.
"I know what you're thinking." Margaret cut me off. "You think he hates you, that he won't listen. But Hazel, you're wrong. Viktor needs you. More than ever."
"He doesn't need me, Margaret." I looked down at the carpet's intricate pattern. "He probably hates me. In his mind, I made him lose a child. I'm a vicious woman. A murderer."
"Bullshit!"
Margaret actually swore. This woman who was always so proper now looked furious and determined.
"I wasn't there, but I absolutely don't believe you'd do something like that!" She gripped my shoulders, hard enough to hurt. "Those maids' accusations are complete garbage! I know what kind of person you are, Hazel. You would never do this!"
Those words shattered the cold shell I'd built around myself.
When everyone had decided I was guilty, when Viktor looked at me like I was convicted, Margaret gave me unconditional trust.
I couldn't hold it together anymore. I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around her.
Margaret held me, patting my back gently. I buried my face in her shoulder, and two days of grief, fear, and despair came flooding out.
I sobbed uncontrollably, tears soaking into her uniform. All those emotions I'd forced down burst through like a broken dam, nearly drowning me.
"I didn't push her... Margaret, I didn't touch her..." I kept repeating it between sobs.
"I know, sweet girl, I know." Margaret kept soothing me.
I cried myself empty while Margaret stayed with me.
When I'd calmed down a little, Margaret helped me sit up and pulled a clean handkerchief from her apron pocket to wipe my face.
She was always so thoughtful. In these suffocating days, I finally felt some warmth again.
"Listen, Hazel." Margaret looked into my eyes. "You shouldn't give up everything just because of Viktor's attitude right now. You two have a misunderstanding. Crying here won't fix it. You need to clear it up. Go tell him exactly what happened."
Her eyes were full of encouragement.
"You're a mother now, Hazel. For your child, you need to fight for the truth.
" She squeezed my hand. "Don't hand over what's yours to someone else.
Viktor loves you. I can see it. These two days he's locked himself in that study—it's not because he hates you.
It's because he doesn't know how to face you. He's running away, just like you are."
"But..." My voice still shook. "What if he doesn't believe me? What if he's already decided to believe Valentina?"
"Then you make him believe," Margaret said firmly. "You go to him. You look him in the eye. You tell him the truth. If he still doesn't believe you, at least you tried. But if you don't even try, you'll never know."
I opened my mouth but couldn't find words.
Margaret saw my hesitation and shoved the tray into my hands, pushing me toward the door.
"Go, child." She said behind me. "Clear this up. Whatever happens, at least you won't regret it."
I stood there in a daze as Margaret pushed me out.
Her words kept echoing in my head.
She was right. I couldn't just leave carrying this murder accusation. If I was going to go, I needed to set the record straight first.
I told myself this was the last time.
The last time I'd go to him. The last time I'd try to talk.
Whatever ending we reached, whether he believed me or chose Valentina—I'd accept it.
I picked up the tray and walked into the midnight hallway.
Gromov Manor at night was eerily quiet. Vintage wall sconces cast dim halos along the corridor. The thick handwoven carpet absorbed every footstep.
I carried the tray toward the study in the central section of the second floor.
The closer I got, the faster my heart pounded. Blood rushed through my veins. Cold sweat made the wooden tray slippery in my palms.
The study door wasn't fully closed.
About two inches of gap between the heavy doors. Bright light from inside spilled through that crack, casting a sharp line across the dark red carpet.
I reached the door, about to knock.
Voices came from inside. Valentina's voice.
Valentina should have been in the ICU at the private hospital. She'd just had major surgery to remove her uterus, had a massive wound in her abdomen—how could she be in Viktor's study?
Shock and curiosity made me lean closer, peering through that two-inch gap.
The study came into view.
Valentina wasn't in the room. On the massive mahogany desk sat a black phone, probably on speaker. Valentina's voice was coming from that speaker.
Viktor sat in the high-backed leather chair behind the desk.
His eyes were closed. A half-burned cigarette in his right hand. His left index and middle fingers pressed hard against his brow. His face showed exhaustion and undisguised irritation.
From the speakerphone, Valentina's voice continued.
"Viktor, I know you're under pressure right now." Valentina's voice carried a slight electronic buzz. "But you need to make a decision soon. Send Hazel away. Cut all ties between her and the Gromov family. That's best for everyone."
What was she saying? Send me away?
They were planning to get rid of me?
I stood outside the door, feet nailed to the carpet.
My heart made a dull boom in my chest. I stared at the man through that crack.
No, don't listen anymore, Hazel. Go back. Leave now.
I screamed inside my head.
But I couldn't move my feet. And finally, I heard Viktor's answer.
He stopped rubbing his brow and crushed the burning cigarette hard into the ashtray.
"You're right." His voice was terrifyingly calm. "I'll move quickly. Hazel doesn't belong here anymore. I'll arrange somewhere new for her."
In that moment, my heart stopped.
He'd really decided to send me away.
He'd chosen Valentina.