Serena’s POV
As the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains, I watched my daughter sleep in her hospital-grade crib beside my bed.
The bedroom door opened quietly, and Ryan stepped in, his eyes imdiately softening when they landed on our daughter.
"Maya’s been discharged and she’s doing well," he said, settling into the chair beside my bed. "She wanted to tell you not to worry about her. Once she gets caught up at the studio, she’ll be by to see you."
The mory of Maya shielding during our fall made my chest tight with emotion. Knowing she was safe lifted a weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying. But there was still one shadow hanging over us—the man who’d orchestrated it all.
"What about Kane Blackwood?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Where is he now?"
"Kane’s been dealt with," he said, his voice low as he took the chair beside my bed. "Permanently."
I felt a cold satisfaction wash over . "Good. Did he suffer?" The venom in my voice surprised even , but I couldn’t help it. That man had tried to kill not just , but my innocent child.
"People don’t try to harm what’s mine without consequences," Ryan replied, his eyes turning glacial for a mont before warming again as he looked at . "You don’t need to know the details. Just know he won’t ever be a threat again."
"People shouldn’t ss with and live to tell about it," I said fiercely, unable to keep the emotion from my voice. "After everything he did—he deserved whatever he got!"
Ryan reached for my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a soothing gesture. "Hey, it’s over now. Let’s not waste another breath on him." He nodded toward our sleeping daughter. "We have more important things to focus on."
I felt myself calm under his touch, my attention drawn back to Vivian’s peaceful face.
"Have you decided on a na yet?" Ryan asked, his gaze still on our daughter.
I smiled, the first genuine smile in what felt like forever. "Vivian," I said softly. "Vivian Blackwood."
"Vivian," Ryan repeated, testing the na. His lips curved into a rare smile that transford his entire face. "It’s perfect."
He surprised then, reaching out to stroke a gentle finger down our daughter’s cheek. "She’ll grow up happy and loved, just like you wanted. She’ll never know fear or pain if I have anything to say about it."
My family stayed in New York much longer than planned, unwilling to leave until they were certain I was recovering well. Two weeks after giving birth, I was finally cleared to go ho—not that the hospital room hadn’t been luxurious, but I longed for so semblance of normalcy.
Ryan had been ticulous about security arrangents. Every staff mber at the Blackwood estate had been thoroughly vetted, background checks run multiple tis, references contacted. The incident with Kane had made him paranoid—though perhaps justifiably so.
"I’ve personally interviewed every person who will have access to you or Vivian," he told as we settled into our wing of the mansion. "No one gets near either of you without my approval."
My first day ho was peaceful until the doorbell rang in the afternoon.
"Mrs. Blackwood, there’s a visitor for you. She says she’s an old friend from university," the housekeeper announced.
When the woman walked in, I had to blink twice. The years had changed her—gone was the studious girl with glasses and ponytail, replaced by a polished, sophisticated woman with designer clothes and perfect makeup.
"Serena!" she exclaid, arms outstretched. "It’s , Olivia! Olivia Wilson!"
I nodded, forcing a smile. "Olivia, of course. It’s just been so long..."
"Too long," she gushed, setting an elegantly wrapped package on the coffee table before taking my hands in hers. Her grip was just a touch too tight, her smile just a degree too bright. "I ca as soon as I heard you’d had your baby! I would have been here sooner, but work has been absolute madness."
She settled herself on the sofa beside , still clutching my hand. "You look tired, darling. Was the birth difficult? I hear the first one always is."
There was sothing performative about her concern that set my nerves on edge, though I couldn’t quite place why. Before I could respond, Ryan entered from the terrace, his expression instantly becoming guarded when he noticed our visitor.
"Ryan, this is Olivia Wilson, my old university friend," I explained quickly.
He gave a curt nod. "Ms. Wilson."
Olivia’s attention shifted to Ryan. "I’ve heard so much about you, Mr. Blackwood," she said, her voice dropping half an octave. "It’s truly an honor to et the man who captured Serena’s heart."
Ryan’s expression remained impassive as he excused himself to take a call, but I noticed the slight tension in his shoulders. He didn’t trust her either.
"Oh, Serena," Olivia continued once he’d stepped away, "childbirth is practically walking through death’s door, isn’t it? You poor thing. You must tell everything!"
Her questions beca increasingly personal, her presence increasingly suffocating until my sister Eleanor rcifully intervened.
"Serena needs to rest," Eleanor stated flatly, not bothering with pleasantries. "She just ca ho from the hospital today, Ms. Wilson. Perhaps you could visit another ti?"
"Of course! How thoughtless of ," she backpedaled smoothly, getting to her feet. "It’s just been so long since I’ve seen my dear friend. I got carried away."
She squeezed my hand one last ti. "I’ll be in New York for quite a while, so we’ll have plenty of ti to catch up. I’ll call you tomorrow."
As soon as Olivia was escorted out, Eleanor rolled her eyes dramatically. "Wasn’t she at that celebration party years ago? The one right before you..." She trailed off, unwilling to ntion my disappearance.
"Yes, she was," I confird, suddenly feeling exhausted.
"Funny how she never helped look for you when you went missing, but now she can’t wait to be your bestie again," Eleanor remarked acidly.
I frowned at my sister’s unusually hostile tone. "El, she probably had her own life going on. It’s been years."
Eleanor pursed her lips but dropped the subject as Ryan returned to help upstairs for my afternoon rest.
After Zoe and Ethan returned to London—both reluctantly, citing urgent business matters—Eleanor stayed behind.
Over the next few days, Olivia beca a constant presence in my life, if not physically then through endless phone calls. Each conversation inevitably steered toward nostalgic reminiscences of university days—oddly specific mories that sotis felt just slightly off, though I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.
"Serena, would it be alright if I ca by this evening?" Olivia asked during our third call that week.
"Of course," I replied, too polite to refuse. "Stay for dinner. I’ll have the staff prepare sothing special."
After hanging up, I instructed the housekeeper to set an extra place for dinner. Eleanor, who’d been working on her laptop nearby, closed it with a decisive snap.
"Are you and this Olivia really that close?" she asked bluntly. "You’ve been on the phone with her constantly."
I shrugged, adjusting Vivian in my arms. "We were friends in college. I guess ti apart hasn’t changed that."
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