Elena’s POV

When I woke up in the hospital, my head was pounding. My face throbbed, and I could taste blood in my mouth.

I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn't cooperate. Everything hurt.

"You're finally awake." Adrian's voice was cold, and emotionless.

I forced my eyes open. He was sitting in a chair by the window, watching me.

The memories flooded through my mind, and tears welled up in my eyes. In our eight years of marriage, Adrian had never hit me before, until now.

"Adrian," I whispered. "How could—"

"Apologize to Celeste."

"What?"

"You heard me." His eyes were hard. "Apologize to your sister for attacking her."

"I didn't attack her!" I tried to sit up again, ignoring the pain. "She was taunting me, saying horrible things—"

"I don't care what she said." He stood up. "You put your hands on a pregnant woman. You could have killed her baby."

"She threw herself down the stairs!" Tears streamed down my face. "She's lying, Adrian. She's always lying—"

"Apologize."

"No." I said firmly.

His expression darkened. "No?"

"I won't apologize for something I didn't do."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he smiled. It was a cold, cruel smile that made my blood freeze.

"Fine."

He grabbed my arm and dragged me to my feet. I stumbled, my legs were too weak to hold me up.

"What are you doing?" I gasped.

He didn't answer, he just dragged me out of the room, and down the hospital hallway.

"Adrian, stop! Where are we going?"

He kept dragging me, till we approached the ICU.

My stomach dropped.

"No," I whispered. "No, Adrian, please—"

He ignored me as he dragged me to Room 304. Clara’s room.

"Adrian, what are you doing?" I was sobbing now. "Please, don't—"

He kicked open the door to Clara's room.

To my dismay, she was still lying there, pale and unmoving, surrounded by machines. Her heart monitor beeped steadily. Ivan’s people hadn't arrived yet.

A nurse looked up, startled. "Sir, you can't—"

"Turn off the life support," Adrian said coldly.

The nurse's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"I said turn it off."

"Sir, I can't do that—"

"Do it."

"Sir, the patient will die within minutes if we—"

"I don't care." Adrian's voice was ice. "Turn it off. Now."

The nurse looked at me, then back at Adrian. "Sir, I need authorization from—"

"I'm Adrian Moretti." His voice was quiet but deadly. "I'm on the hospital board. I donate millions to this place every year. If you don't do what I say right now, I will have you fired. I will have your nursing license revoked. I will destroy your career and this entire hospital. Do you understand?"

The nurse's face went pale as she quickly did as he said with tears in her eyes.

"No!" I lunged forward, but Adrian caught me, holding me back.

"Please," I sobbed. "Please, she's all I have. She's my mother. Please—"

The ventilator went silent.

The heart monitor's beeping slowed.

"Adrian, please!" I dropped to my knees, sobbing. "Please don't do this! I'm begging you!"

He looked down at me. "Apologize to Celeste."

"I'll apologize!" I screamed. "I'll apologize for anything! Just please, don't hurt her!"

"Say it, then."

"I'm sorry!" I was hysterical now. "I'm sorry for pushing Celeste! I'm sorry for everything! Just please, Adrian, please don't do this!"

He stared at me for a long moment.

"Turn it back on!" I screamed. "Please, turn it back on!"

But then a voice called from the hallway. "Mr. Moretti! Sir!"

Another nurse appeared in the doorway, breathless. "It's Miss Celeste! She's having a panic attack! She can't breathe—"

Adrian released me immediately. “Gather every nurse and doctor in this hospital. Now. No harm must come to Celeste.”

Then he ran out of the room. To my horror, he dragged the nurse from Clara's room with him.

I rushed outside frantically.

"Help!" I screamed into the hallway. "Somebody help me! Please!"

But everyone was gone, running to help Celeste.

I looked at the machines, at the buttons and switches.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to Clara. "I'm so sorry. I don't know how to—"

I tried pressing buttons, and flipping switches, but nothing worked.

Clara's heart monitor slowed further, and the beeping got fainter.

"No, no, no," I sobbed. "Please, Mama. Please don't leave me. Please—"

The monitor flatlined.

"No!" I threw myself across her body. "Mama! Mama, please!"

But she was gone.

I don't know how long I stayed there, sobbing over her body.

Eventually, the nurses came back. They tried to pull me away, but I wouldn't let go.

Security had to be called.

They dragged me out of the room while I screamed and fought.

Adrian was in the waiting room with Celeste. She was crying dramatically, my mother stroking her hair.

When Adrian saw me being dragged past, he didn't even look concerned.

He just turned back to Celeste and continued coddling her.

Clara was dead. Adrian had murdered her.

Just like he had murdered my babies.

I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and texted Ivan.

— He killed my mother. It’s too late.

His response came immediately.

— What happened?

I told him everything.

There was a long pause before his next message.

— I’ll make him pay, Elena. I swear on my life.

If Adrian thought he had broken me, he was about to learn how wrong he was.

Elena's POV

The next few days passed quickly. I arranged a quiet funeral for Clara, inviting the close friends and family she had.

Adrian barely spoke to me. He was too busy fussing over Celeste, making sure she had everything she needed for the party.

The day before the party, I found Adrian in his office, going through party preparations with the event planner on the phone.

When he saw me, he held up one finger, gesturing to me to wait.

I stood there silently while he finished his call, discussing menu options and flower arrangements like he hadn't killed Clara.

Finally, he hung up and looked at me with irritation. "What is it?"

"I need you to sign these." I placed a folder on his desk. "For Clara's death certificate and burial arrangements."

He glanced at the papers without really looking at them. "Right."

He picked up his pen.

"I'm sorry about your foster mother," he said absently, signing the first page. "But it was her time, wasn't it? You said it yourself, the hospital called to tell you she wasn't getting better."

My jaw clenched.

He kept signing and talking, not even reading what was in front of him. "These things happen. She was old. She lived a full life."

He murdered her. And now he was acting like it was just natural causes.

"Here." He pushed the folder back to me. "All signed. Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Good. Round up everything quickly. We have the party on Saturday, and I don't want any negative energy affecting the celebration."

Negative energy. That's what my grief was to him.

"Of course," I said quietly, taking the folder.

As I turned to leave, I heard Celeste's voice from the hallway.

"Adrian? Are you almost done? I need your opinion on my dress—oh." She stopped when she saw me. "Elena. I didn't see you there."

"I was just leaving," I said.

"Wait." Celeste stepped into the office, her hand resting on her stomach. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

I said nothing.

"I know you're upset about Clara," she said softly. "And I understand, because losing a parent is hard."

My hands clenched around the folder.

"But you have to remember," Celeste continued, "Clara was my biological mother too. We shared the same blood. If anything, I'm in more pain than you are."

I stared at her incredulously. Celeste had wanted nothing to do with Clara after the DNA test.

"You only knew her for ten years," Celeste said. "But she carried me for nine months. We had a biological connection that you could never understand. So really, I'm the one who lost a mother. So you’re just being dramatic for no reason."

Something inside me snapped.

My hand moved before I could stop it.

The slap echoed through the office.

Celeste stumbled back, her hand flying to her cheek. For a moment, she just stood there, shocked. Then she burst into tears.

"Adrian!" she sobbed. "She hit me! She hit me again!"

Adrian was on his feet instantly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he roared.

"She was taunting me," I said, my voice shaking. "She said—"

"I don't care what she said!" He barked, and his hand flew through the air as he slapped me hard.

The force of the slap sent me stumbling. I gripped the wall as I struggled to keep standing.

"I was just trying to console her!" Celeste wailed. "I told her I understood her pain, that Clara was my biological mother too, and she attacked me!"

"You're lying—"

Adrian grabbed my arm roughly. "Enough! I don't want to hear another word from you."

He shoved me toward the door.

"Get out of my sight," he said coldly. "And if you even look at Celeste wrong again, I'll make sure you regret it."

I stumbled out of the office, clutching the folder to my chest.

Behind me, I could hear Adrian's voice, it was soft and gentle now.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? Did she hurt you? Come here, let me see..."

I walked up the stairs slowly, my cheek throbbing where he had hit me.

In our eight years of marriage, Adrian had never laid a hand on me.

Now he had hit me twice in four days, because of Celeste.

I went to the bedroom and locked the door.

Then I opened the folder and looked at the documents Adrian had just signed.

He hadn't read a single one.

He had signed the divorce papers. He had signed acknowledgment of my fifty percent ownership of Moretti Fragrances.

He had signed his own destruction, and he didn't even know it.

I pulled out my phone and took photos of every signed page.

Then I sent them to Ivan.

— He signed everything. The party is tomorrow night. Are you ready?

His response came immediately.

—- Everything is in place. Tomorrow, you leave that house and you never look back.

****

The day of the party arrived. Adrian and Celeste had left the house several hours ago, leaving just my parents.

At 6 PM, my mother knocked on the door.

"Elena, you need to start getting ready. We’re already going to the venue for the party."

"Okay"

"Wear something nice. Don’t wear black."

I didn't respond.

She sighed. "Adrian is trying very hard to make this a perfect evening. The least you could do is not ruin it with your mourning."

Then she left.

When everyone was out of the house, I moved quickly.

I pulled out the suitcases I had hidden in the back of the closet and loaded them into the hallway.

I arranged a large envelope, inside were the divorce papers signed by Adrian himself, with implicating photos and videos of Adrian and Celeste.

The medical records showing what he had done to our babies.

Then the divestment agreement, showing that I had fifty percent ownership of Moretti Fragrance, and I had pulled out my investments from his company.

Then other necessary documents.

I stepped back and looked at the envelope sitting there like a bomb waiting to explode.

By the time he opened these, I would be gone.

His company would be destroyed, and his reputation would be in ruins.

I pulled out my phone and called the delivery service, then I grabbed my bags and walked out the front door.

A black car was waiting in the alley behind the house. Ivan stepped out, opening the door for me.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly.

I looked back at the house one last time. At the life I was leaving behind.

"Yes," I said. "I'm ready."

I got into the car. Ivan closed the door and got in beside me.

As we drove away, I pulled out my phone and sent one final text to the delivery service I had hired.

— Deliver the envelope now.

Then I blocked Adrian's number, Celeste's number, and my parents' numbers.

I was done.

"Where are we going?" I asked Ivan quietly.

"Somewhere safe," he said.

I placed my hand on my stomach, on the baby growing inside me.

"Good," I whispered.

As the car pulled away, I watched the house disappear in the mirror.

Adrian thought I was stupid, so easy to manipulate and discard.

He had no idea what he had created.

The woman who loved him died the day I found him with Celeste.

The woman sitting in this car was someone else.

Someone who would make him pay for every lie, every betrayal, every murdered child.

Adrian Moretti's perfect night was about to become his worst nightmare, and I couldn't wait to watch it all burn.