Chapter 45 Olivia
OLIVIA
I’m reading an article on my phone about prenatal vitamins when I hear a soft groan. My head snaps up to see that Elena’s eyes are open. Not the foggy, medicated half-consciousness from yesterday, but actually open.
Clear. Focused. Alive.
“Elena?” I set my phone down and lean forward. “Elena, can you hear me?”
Her lips move, but I can’t make out what she’s saying, so I stand and move closer to the bed.
“W…water,” she rasps.
I grab the cup from the bedside table and hold the straw to her lips. She takes a small sip, then another, then pulls back.
“Better,” she whispers.
“Oh my God. You’re awake. You’re really awake.” I’m already reaching for the call button to summon a nurse, but Elena’s hand catches mine.
“Wait.”
I freeze. “What? Are you in pain? Do you need—”
“Just... wait. Let me… look at you first.”
Her eyes travel over my face, like she’s memorizing every detail. “You’ve been here,” she says. “The whole time.”
I feel my throat tighten. “You remember that?”
“Bits and pieces. Like a dream.” She squeezes my hand weakly. “Thank you for staying, dochka.”
My eyes sting. “You don’t have to thank me. You’re family.”
“You could have gone home and rested. You’re pregnant.”
“I’m fine. The baby’s fine. And I wanted to be here.”
Elena’s mouth curves into a small smile. “You’re a good girl, Olivia. My grandson is lucky to have you.”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“No. You’re both lucky to have each other.” She shifts slightly, wincing. “Help me sit up a little?”
I adjust the bed controls until she’s more upright. Then I press the call button. “I’m getting a nurse,” I tell her. “They need to check your vitals and—”
“Yes, yes, in a minute. First, tell me what I’ve missed.”
“Elena, you were shot. You’ve been unconscious for almost three days. I think the medical update takes priority.”
“Three days?” Her eyebrows rise. “No wonder I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”
A nurse bustles in before I can respond. She takes one look at Elena and breaks into a wide smile. “Mrs. Safonova! You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been shot,” Elena says dryly.
The nurse laughs and begins her checks. Blood pressure, temperature, oxygen levels. She asks Elena to rate her pain on a scale of one to ten.
“Five,” Elena says.
“I can increase your pain medication if you’d like.”
“No. I’m fine.”
The nurse makes a note on her chart. “Dr. Rodgers will be in shortly to examine you. In the meantime, try not to overexert yourself. You’ve been through a lot.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
The nurse leaves and Elena turns back to me. “Now. Tell me what I’ve missed.”
“Nothing important. Stefan’s been here every day. Taras has been calling constantly. The doctors say you’re healing well. That’s all that matters.”
“That’s not all I want to know.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I want to know about you and Stefan. Are you two alright?”
“Of course we are. Why wouldn’t we be?”
Elena gives me a look, the exact same one she gave me the first time I tried to lie about being nauseated from morning sickness. “I may have been unconscious, but I’m not blind, Olivia. Something’s bothering you.”
“I’m just worried about you.”
“You’re worried about more than that.”
I open my mouth to deny it, but the words won’t come. Because she’s right. I am worried about more than just her recovery.
I’m worried about the note in my purse. About the meeting with Natalia next week. About the journal sitting in my suitcase back at the manor.
About all the secrets I’m keeping from Stefan.
“There’s just a lot going on,” I say finally. “With the wedding coming up and the baby and everything with your recovery. It’s overwhelming.”
“A wedding!” Elena’s face lights up. “So you got engaged?!”
I tell her the story, every last detail, from the “fire in the garden” to the promises Stefan made me. When I’m done, Elena looks at me for a long while. Then she says, “You’re going to marry my grandson.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “I am.”
“Good. He needs you.”
“I need him, too.”
“I know you do. That’s why you’ll make it work.”
I don’t know what to say to that. So I just squeeze her hand.
“When you get married,” Elena continues, “I want to be there. Not in a hospital bed. On my feet. Dancing.”
My throat tightens again. “You will be. I promise.”
“Good. Because I’ve been practicing my moves.”
“In your hospital bed?”
“In my dreams, darling. In my dreams.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Elena says, “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”
I tense up. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you keep looking at your purse like it’s going to take a bite out of you.”
I glance down. My purse is sitting on the floor beside my chair. The note from Natalia is tucked inside, burning a hole through the leather.
“It’s nothing,” I mumble.
“Olivia.”
“Really. It’s nothing important.”
Elena doesn’t push. But I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
Luckily, Dr. Rodgers arrives before the conversation can continue. She’s pleased with Elena’s progress and says if things continue to improve, Elena might be able to go home in a few days.
“A few days?” Elena scoffs. “I want to go home now.”
“Let’s not rush things,” Dr. Rodgers says gently. “You were shot twice. Your body needs time to heal.”
Elena grumbles but doesn’t argue further. Dr. Rodgers finishes her examination and leaves, promising to check back in a few hours.
I’m about to suggest Elena try to rest when the door opens again.
Stefan walks in holding two cups of coffee. He stops dead when he sees Elena sitting up. “Babushka.”
“Stefushka.”
He’s across the room in two strides, setting the coffee down and pulling her into a careful hug. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”
“Oh, just wonderful!” she says sarcastically. “In fact, I think I’d like two more bullets, please.”
Stefan pulls back, his hands framing her face. “Don’t joke about that.”
“Why not? If I can’t joke about it, what’s the point of surviving?”
He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “You’re impossible.”
Elena pats his cheek. “Of course I am. Who do you think taught you everything you know? Now, sit down and stop hovering. You’re making me nervous.”
Stefan drags a chair over and sits. I hand him one of the coffees he brought and take the other for myself.
“The doctor says I can go home in a few days,” Elena informs him.
“That’s optimistic,” I say, at the same time that Stefan says, “That’s too soon.”
Elena waves a dismissive hand at both of us. “Save your breath, the two of you. I’m not staying in this hospital any longer than I have to. The food is terrible and the beds are worse.”
“You were shot in the chest. You need to rest.”
“I can rest at home.”
“Not with all the construction happening. The new security system is being installed. There are workers everywhere.”
“Then I’ll rest in my room. With the door closed.”
Stefan looks at me. “Help me out here, Olivia.”
I shrug. “She’s not… totally wrong. She could rest at home just as well as she can rest here. Maybe better, actually. Hospitals are loud.”
“See?” Elena says triumphantly. “Olivia agrees with me.”
“Olivia is supposed to be on my side,” he growls with a vicious side-eye.
“I’m on the side of whatever’s best for Elena,” I retort.
Stefan sighs. “Fine. But you’re following every single one of the doctor’s orders. No arguments.”
“No arguments,” Elena agrees.
“And you’re staying in bed for at least a week.”
“Three days.”
“A week.”
“Five days.”
“Six and a half.”
“Deal.”
They shake on it like they’re negotiating a business contract. I hide my smile behind my coffee cup.
“Now that all the boring stuff is settled,” Elena says, turning to me, “tell me about the wedding.”
“There’s not much to tell yet. We haven’t planned anything.”
“You must have some ideas. What kind of dress do you want?”
“I already have a dress. We bought it in Italy.”
“You did?” Elena smiles broadly. “What does it look like?”
“It’s beautiful,” I gush. “Romantic. Floaty. No corset.”
“Perfect for a pregnant bride. And the venue?”
I glance at Stefan. “We were thinking the manor. In the garden.”
Elena claps her hands together. “Oh, that’s perfect! I can already picture it. Lights strung through the trees. Flowers everywhere. Music and dancing.”
“If you’re there to see it,” Stefan says quietly.
Elena reaches for his hand. “I’ll be there. I promise.”
The guilt doesn’t just twist, like it has been doing—it shreds through my chest like a chainsaw.
For the thousandth time since we landed back Stateside, it occurs to me that Elena almost died because of me.
Because I opened my stupid mouth and told Natalia about Mikayla.
I was dumb enough, arrogant enough, or both to think I could broker peace between Stefan and the woman who gave birth to him.
And this is the cost.
This. A kind old woman who’s only ever been sweet to me, lying in a hospital bed with bullet holes in her chest, talking about dancing at our wedding as if her blood didn’t soak into the manor’s floors three days ago.
I need to fix this. I need to find a way to end the violence before someone else bleeds out. Before someone else dies.
Before Elena takes another bullet.
Before Stefan or Taras or even bright-eyed Arielle become collateral damage in a war I helped escalate.
They were never meant to hurt anyone. That’s what Natalia said in her note.
Maybe she’s telling the truth. Maybe she really didn’t want Elena shot. Maybe the attack spiraled beyond her control and she’s drowning in regret just like I am.
Or maybe not.
But either way, what does it change?
If I meet with her, I can make her stop. I’ll talk to her until she agrees to let us build our life without her shadow poisoning everything we touch.
Or maybe not. What if Stefan’s right and I’m the most naive fool who ever lived? If she is exactly the monster Stefan says she is, then couldn’t this all go terribly wrong?
But I won’t know unless I try.
And God help me, I have to try.
“Olivia?”