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?”

I blink. Stefan is watching me with concern. “Sorry. What?”

“I asked if you’re okay. You zoned out.”

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

Elena narrows her eyes. “You should go home and rest. Both of you.”

“We’re not leaving you alone,” Stefan argues immediately.

“I’m not alone. I have nurses checking on me every five minutes. And guards outside my door. I’ll be fine.”

“Babushka—”

“Go. Spend some time at the manor. Take a shower. Sleep in a real bed. You’ve both been here long enough.”

“I want to stay,” I insist.

“And I want some privacy. An old woman needs time to think without you two hovering over her like anxious mother hens.”

Stefan and I exchange a look. “She’s right,” I admit. “We could use a break.”

“See? Olivia understands.”

He sighs. “Fine. But we’re coming back later.”

“Not today you’re not. Come back tomorrow.”

“Babushka—”

“Tomorrow, Stefan. That’s an order.”

He opens his mouth to argue, then closes it again. “Okay. Tomorrow.”

Elena smiles. “Good boy.”

We say our goodbyes. Elena makes us promise to eat something and get some rest. Stefan kisses her forehead and I squeeze her hand one more time.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I whisper.

“I’m glad you’re here, dochka.”

We leave the room. The guards nod as we pass. Stefan is quiet in the elevator, his jaw humming with tension.

“She’s going to be fine,” I tell him. “She’s strong. Stubborn. She’ll be dancing at our wedding just like she said.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t sound remotely convinced.

We’re halfway to the parking garage when Stefan stops. “Shit.”

“What?”

“We have an appointment. The OBGYN. It’s today.”

I pull out my phone and check the time. “Oh, wow, you’re right. In an hour. It completely slipped my mind.”

“Do you still want to go? We can reschedule if you’re too tired.”

I think about it. I am tired. Exhausted, actually. But I also want to see our baby. Hear the heartbeat. Make sure everything is okay.

I need a reminder of why I’m doing all of this. Why I’m trying so hard to fix things.

“Let’s go,” I say.

Stefan nods. We head to the car and drive across town to Dr. Kostas’s office. The waiting room is quiet today, just one other couple sitting in the corner. We check in and sit down.

Stefan takes my hand. “Are you nervous?”

“A little. You?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “The fear isn’t reasonable. It’s just there.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I reassure him. “The baby’s fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’d feel it if something was wrong. And I feel fine. Great, actually.” He still looks uncertain, so I lean my head on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” I whisper.

The nurse calls us back a few minutes later. She takes my weight and blood pressure, asks the standard questions about symptoms and discomfort. I tell her everything’s been fine. No bleeding or cramping, and the nausea has pretty much disappeared altogether.

“Great,” she says, making notes on her tablet. “Dr. Kostas will be right in.”

She leaves and Stefan helps me up onto the exam table. The paper crinkles beneath me as I settle back against the pillows.

“Comfortable?” he asks.

“As comfortable as a woman can be on an ice-cold table covered in tissue paper.”

He chuckles and takes my hand. “I’ll take that as a ‘sort of.’”

Dr. Kostas knocks once before entering. He’s wearing his white coat over a suit, his wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Today’s tie is a deep navy blue instead of his usual blood-red.

“Dr. Aster. Mr. Safonov.” He nods to each of us. “How are we feeling today?”

“Good,” I say. “Tired, but good.”

“That’s to be expected. You’re in your second trimester now. Energy levels should start improving soon.” He washes his hands at the sink. “Any concerns since your last visit?”

“No. Everything’s been normal.” I look at Stefan and add, “Well, normal as far as the baby is concerned, at least.”

“Excellent. Let’s take a look at this baby, shall we?” He wheels the ultrasound machine over and squirts gel onto my stomach. It’s cold and I flinch. “Sorry about that,” he chuckles. He presses the wand against my belly and the screen glows to life.

Static at first, then shapes. Movement.

And there it is. Our baby.

Bigger than last time. More defined. I can see the curve of the spine, the tiny fists, the profile of the face.

“Beautiful,” Dr. Kostas murmurs. “Measurements look perfect. Heart rate is strong.” He clicks a few buttons and the room fills with the rapid thump-thump-thump of the heartbeat.

Stefan’s hand tightens around mine. His eyes are fixed on the screen.

“Everything looks good,” Dr. Kostas continues. “Weight is right on track. Development is progressing normally.” He moves the wand slightly. “Would you like to know the sex?”

I look at Stefan. We’d talked about this before. He said he wanted to know. I wasn’t sure. But now, seeing our baby on that screen, I want to know, too.

“Yes,” I say. “We want to know.”

Dr. Kostas adjusts the angle and points to the screen. “See this right here? That’s your daughter.”

My breath catches. “A girl?”

“A girl,” he confirms with a smile.

Stefan doesn’t say anything. I’m worried that something is wrong… until I glance over at him and see tears streaming down his face.

“Stefan?”

He wipes his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. “Sorry. I just… A girl.”

“You’re happy?”

“I’m terrified,” he admits. “But yes. I’m happy.”

Dr. Kostas gives us a moment, busying himself with printing out ultrasound photos. When Stefan has composed himself, the doctor hands us the pictures.

“These are for you. Keep them somewhere safe.” He wipes the gel off my stomach. “I’ll see you back here in four weeks. Call if you have any concerns before then.”

“Thank you, Dr. Kostas.”

“My pleasure. Congratulations, both of you.”

He leaves and I sit up, smoothing down my shirt. Stefan is gazing down at the ultrasound photo like nothing in the history of human civilization has ever been more beautiful.

“A daughter,” he says softly.

“Are you disappointed?”

“No. God, no. I’m not disappointed.” He looks up at me. “I’m just… I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Raise a girl. Protect her. Keep her safe in a world that’s so fucking dangerous.”

I slide off the table and take his face in my hands. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

“What if I screw it up?”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. Because I know you. And I know you’ll do everything in your power to give her a good life.”

He pulls me close and buries his face in my neck. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too.” I laugh and take his hand. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

We walk out of the office and into the parking lot. The sun is setting and the world is gilded. Stefan opens the car door for me and I slide into the passenger seat.

As he drives, I watch the city pass by. The buildings, the people, the endless traffic. This is the world our daughter will grow up in. This chaotic, beautiful, terrifying world.

And I need to make it safer for her.

I need to end the war between Stefan and his mother. To stop the violence before it touches our family again.

My mind is made up. I’ll meet with Natalia. I’ll listen to what she has to say. And I’ll find a way to make peace.

For Elena.

For Stefan.

For our daughter.

I have to.