He took several packages of medicine out of his bag. “Painkillers compatible with pregnancy, anti-inflammatories, vitamins. Everything safe to take in your condition.” He handed the medicine to Olivia. “Bed rest for at least a week and no sudden movements.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Olivia said quietly.
Wallace nodded, then took Marcus aside. They spoke quietly, but I heard anyway.
“This wasn’t a random attack,” the doctor said. “The blows were delivered methodically. Someone wanted to cause maximum harm, but not kill immediately.”
“To make her suffer,” Marcus nodded grimly.
“Exactly,” Wallace shook his head. “Animal cruelty, especially considering the pregnancy.”
“We’ll deal with this,” said Marcus firmly. “Thanks for coming.”
“If it gets worse, call immediately.” The doctor shook his hand. “And be careful. I passed by your house in town. There are people watching, not locals.”
Marcus and I exchanged glances. So they were already searching.
When the doctor left, Marcus immediately sat at the laptop.
“We need to act faster,” he said. “Since they are already at the house, they will soon start expanding the search perimeter.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked, changing the cold compress on Olivia’s forehead.
“Send a message to Arthur Sterling,” he answered without looking up from the screen. “Right now.”
He worked for about an hour, then showed us the result. It was an email with attached photos of the documents Olivia had taken, as well as bank statements obtained by his friends. The text stated the essence of the matter concisely and to the point: Fraud with the charity foundation, secret accounts abroad, assault on a pregnant woman.
“We are not making any demands,” explained Marcus. “Just offering to meet. Today at six p.m., the old Park Diner in the city.”
“Why there?” asked Olivia. “That’s in the center of town.”
“Exactly why,” Marcus nodded. “A public place. He won’t be able to try anything against us, and we’ll have the advantage. We know his face, but he doesn’t know ours.”
“No, he won’t come alone,” I objected. “People like that always have security.”
“I know,” Marcus smiled. “And I’ll have my own people. Former squad mates—three guys, combat-tested.”
He sent the email through a secure connection. “Now we wait for an answer,” he said, closing the laptop.
The answer came forty minutes later. Short, businesslike: We’ll be at the designated place, at the designated time. Alone. You come without an entourage, too.
Marcus chuckled. “Of course he won’t be alone, and neither will we.”
“I have to go with you,” Olivia suddenly said, trying to sit up.
“Don’t even think about it.” I gently laid her back down. “You need rest.”
“Mom, this is my battle.” She pressed her lips together stubbornly, wincing in pain. “I have to be there.”
“It’s our shared battle,” said Marcus firmly. “But your task right now is to protect yourself and the baby. We’ll handle it.”
Olivia wanted to object, but suddenly turned pale and grabbed her stomach. I got scared, but she shook her head reassuringly.
“It’s fine, just kicked.”
“See,” I stroked her hand. “Even the little one tells you to stay here.”
By noon, Marcus left again. Needed to meet with friends, discuss the action plan. He left me one of the pistols and strictly forbade leaving the cabin.
“If anyone approaches, shoot immediately,” he said before leaving. “Don’t try to find out who it is.”
I nodded. In thirty years, I had never shot at a person, but I knew I could if it threatened my daughter’s life. Olivia and I were left alone. She dozed most of the time, exhausted by pain and stress.
I sat by the window, watching the forest and thinking about how strangely life had turned. Just three days ago, I was a simple retiree, a former nurse who made jam and knitted socks for grandkids. And today, I’m sitting with a gun in my hands, ready to defend my daughter from powerful people who want her dead.
But in reality, I was never just a retiree. The blood of a soldier grandfather and a resilient grandmother always flowed in my veins. I had just forgotten about it in the habitual routine of peaceful life.
Marcus returned at twilight. He was collected and focused.
“Everything is ready,” he said. “My people are already at the diner. One at the bar, two at tables. Arthur Sterling arrived in town an hour ago. His car is parked near the Central Hotel.”
“He’s preparing too,” I said thoughtfully. “Surely he has his own people.”
“Undoubtedly,” Marcus nodded. “But in a public place, they’ll have to be cautious just like us.”
He handed me a small leather briefcase.
“All the documents are here. Originals of Olivia’s photos, printouts of bank statements, information on the shell companies, the money flow chart, and something else interesting my friends found.”
“What exactly?” I asked.
“Proof that Lucille Sterling has been leading a double life for the last three years.” Marcus smiled mysteriously. “She has a lover. A young manager at one of her husband’s hotel chains.”
“Lord,” I shook my head. “And she dared to talk about dirty blood.”
Marcus looked at his watch. “We have to go, Ruby. The meeting is in an hour and a half, and the drive takes about an hour.”
I walked over to Olivia, who woke up and watched our preparations with anxiety. “We’ll handle it.” I kissed her forehead. “Everything will be fine.”
“Be careful,” she whispered. “These people… they aren’t used to losing.”
“Neither are we,” said Marcus firmly. “Neither are we.”
We went outside. The evening was cold with a light fog creeping over the lake. Ideal weather for our mission. Visibility limited, but not enough to be dangerous. In the car, Marcus checked the pistol one more time then handed me a small box.
“What is this?” I opened it and saw a tiny earpiece.
“Radio transmitter,” he explained. “My guys will be in touch with us. I’ll hear them. You’ll hear me. If something goes wrong, I’ll say the code word ‘Sunset’. That means leave immediately.”
I inserted the earpiece and adjusted my scarf to hide it.
“And if help is needed?”
“The word ‘Sunrise’,” he answered. “And they intervene immediately.”
The road to the city was deserted. We drove in silence, each immersed in our thoughts. I thought about my daughter left alone in the forest cabin. She was scared, I knew, but she didn’t show it.
“Everything will be okay, Ruby,” Marcus said suddenly, as if reading my thoughts. “We thought it all through. The plan is solid.”
I nodded, but anxiety didn’t let go. Too many unknowns. How would Arthur Sterling react? Would he believe us? What would he do if he believed?
The city met us with the bright lights of shop windows and street lamps. After the silence of the forest, the noise of the streets seemed deafening. Marcus parked the car two blocks from the diner.
“We’ll walk,” he said. “Safer that way.”
I gripped the briefcase with the documents tighter and got out of the car. We walked through the evening city like ordinary passersby, a middle-aged woman and man. No one would guess we were going to a meeting that could change our lives.
The old Park Diner was located on the first floor of a historic building downtown, a cozy place with dimmed lights and quiet music. We entered fifteen minutes before the appointed time.
“He’s already here,” Marcus whispered to me. “At the corner table, alone. But his people are at the neighboring tables.”
I discreetly scanned the room. I recognized Arthur Sterling immediately—a tall, stately man with a strong face and silver temples. He sat thoughtfully stirring his coffee and looked completely calm. Only the whitened knuckles of his fingers betrayed his tension.
“I’ll go first,” said Marcus. “You approach in a minute.”
He confidently headed toward Arthur Sterling’s table. I saw the man tense up when a stranger approached him. Two bodyguards at the next table also leaned forward, but Marcus simply sat opposite and said something quietly.
I gave them a minute, then walked over and sat next to my brother.
“Good evening, Mr. Sterling,” I said calmly. “Thank you for agreeing to meet.”
He looked at me closely. In his cold gray eyes, there was neither hostility nor benevolence, only calculating business interest.
“You claim my wife tried to kill your daughter,” he said without preamble. “That is a serious accusation. Do you have proof?”
I took the photos of the beaten Olivia out of the briefcase and placed them before him. “This is my daughter, your daughter-in-law. She is pregnant with your grandchild.”
His face twitched when he saw the photos, but he quickly pulled himself together. “This is terrible,” he said in an even voice. “But what makes you think Lucille did this?”
Marcus took out a voice recorder and played the recording. Olivia’s voice, weak, breaking with pain, but distinct, filled the space between us.
“Lucille drove me out of town, said she wanted to show me a new lot. When we got out of the car, she hit me with something heavy. Kept repeating about my dirty blood, that I wasn’t worthy to be in their family…”
Arthur Sterling sat motionless, listening to the recording. His face remained impassive, but the muscles in his jaw betrayed internal tension.
“Motive,” he said when the recording ended. “What motive does my wife have to attack her daughter-in-law? Lucille has always been demanding, but violence…”
I put the second folder on the table. “Your wife has been systematically siphoning money from the Hope Foundation over seven years. About five million dollars. A scheme with shell companies. Olivia accidentally discovered the documents and asked an uncomfortable question.”
Arthur opened the folder. His face remained imperturbable, but I noticed his fingers trembling slightly as he flipped through the pages.
“Can this be verified?” He asked, studying the statements.
“We already verified it,” answered Marcus. “These firms exist only on paper, registered to straw men. Money was siphoned offshore.”
Arthur Sterling remained silent for a long time, studying the documents, then raised his gaze.
“Suppose this is true. What do you want? Money? Compensation?”
“Justice,” I said firmly. “And safety for my daughter and grandchild.”
“What kind of justice exactly?” His voice became harder. “You understand that a public scandal will destroy not only Lucille’s reputation, but the business I built for thirty years.”
“We aren’t seeking publicity,” Marcus answered calmly. “We are only interested in Olivia’s safety and just punishment for the person who tried to kill a pregnant woman.”
Arthur tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the table. “And Gavin… does my son know about this?”
“No.” I shook my head. “And Olivia isn’t sure he should know. She believes he will always be on his mother’s side.”
Something resembling pain flashed in the eyes of this stern man. “She’s right,” he said quietly. “My son has always been weak. Lucille made him that way.”
He fell silent again, immersed in his thoughts, then abruptly looked up. “You have something else, don’t you?” His voice was quiet, but steel rang in it. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have dared such a meeting.”
Marcus nodded and took out the third folder.
“Your wife is leading a double life, Mr. Sterling. She’s having an affair with Paul Nichols, the manager of your Riviera Hotel, for three years now. And money from the foundation partially went to their joint account in the Cayman Islands.”
It was a low blow, and we knew it, but we had no choice. We needed to hit him where it hurt so he would take our side.
Arthur took the folder with trembling hands. Inside were photos of Lucille and a young man in a restaurant, leaving a hotel at the airport, and bank statements confirming the joint account. His face turned to stone. He closed the folder and put it on the table.
“What do you want?” He asked dully.
“Specifically,” I leaned toward him, looking him straight in the eyes. “Official divorce for Olivia and Gavin with decent compensation. A guarantee of safety for my daughter and future grandchild. And that Lucille never approaches them again.”
“And in return, complete silence,” Marcus answered. “No police reports, no contact with the press, no public accusations. Everything stays between us.”
Arthur Sterling looked at us for a long time as if assessing our resolve. Then he nodded.
“I agree. With one condition. I will deal with Lucille myself. In my own way.”
Marcus and I exchanged glances.
“You won’t cause her physical harm?” I asked. Not that I worried about that woman, but I didn’t want more blood on our hands.
“No.” He shook his head. “But she will get what she deserves. Believe me, for Lucille, the loss of status, money, and reputation is scarier than any physical pain.”
“Then we have a deal.” Marcus extended his hand.
Arthur shook it after a second of hesitation. “Is Olivia in a safe place right now?” He asked, gathering the documents into one pile.
“Yes,” I answered. “And she will stay there until everything settles down.”
“Sensible,” he nodded. “I will contact you in three days. By that time, the divorce papers will be ready, and Lucille will cease to be a threat.”
He stood up, nodded to us, and headed for the exit. The bodyguards immediately rose and followed him.
Marcus and I remained at the table, not believing everything went so smoothly.
“Do you think he’ll keep his word?” I whispered.
“I think so,” Marcus nodded. “People like Arthur Sterling value their word. It’s a question of honor. Besides, a scandal isn’t profitable for him.”
I suddenly felt incredibly tired. The tension of the last days fell on my shoulders all at once.
“Let’s go home,” said Marcus, noticing my state. “Olivia is waiting for news.”
We left the diner and headed to the car. The city around us lived its usual evening life. People rushed about their business, shop windows glowed, cars drove by. No one suspected that the fate of several families had just been decided.
In the car, Marcus contacted his people, made sure we weren’t being tailed, and we set off.
“You did good, sis,” he said when we drove out onto the highway. “Grandpa would be proud of you. And of you too.”
I smiled weakly. “I wouldn’t have managed without you. It’s our shared victory.”
He looked focused on the road. “And Olivia’s. She showed real courage.”
I looked out the window at the trees rushing by, black silhouettes against the night sky. Somewhere out there, deep in the woods, my daughter waited. And now I could tell her it was over, that they were safe—she and the baby growing under her heart.
“Black blood,” I said quietly. “Lucille despised it so much, but it was that blood that defeated her in the end.”
“Not blood,” Marcus objected. “But what it gave you: resilience, wisdom, the ability to survive and protect your loved ones, no matter what happens.”
I nodded. He was right. It wasn’t about origin, but about what it taught us: to survive where others give up, to see a way out where others see a dead end, and never retreat when it comes to the lives of those we love.
We drove through the night, approaching the forest cabin where our story began. I knew everything would be fine now. Not immediately, not easily, but we would manage—as we always had.
A week passed. Seven long days filled with waiting and anxiety. Olivia and I stayed in the forest cabin. Marcus visited regularly, bringing food, medicine, and news. My daughter’s condition was gradually improving. The bruises began to fade. The pain in her ribs became less acute. She slept a lot, and when she was awake, she sat by the window looking at the lake and stroking her stomach, as if convincing the baby that everything would be okay.
On the third day, just as promised, Arthur Sterling contacted us. Marcus met him in the city and returned with documents, a divorce agreement, and compensation, as well as news that took my breath away.
“Lucille Sterling has disappeared,” he said, adding logs to the stove. “Officially, she went for treatment at a Swiss clinic.”
“But in reality?” I asked, glancing at the sleeping Olivia.
“Arthur gave her a choice,” Marcus spoke quietly, not to wake his niece. “Either prison for fraud and attempted murder, or voluntary exile. She chose the latter. He allocated her a small sum—small by his standards, of course—and sent her somewhere in South America with the condition that she never returns and never contacts the family.”
“And her lover?” I remembered the young hotel manager.
“Fired,” Marcus shrugged. “Arthur Sterling is a tough man. He doesn’t forgive betrayal.”
“And how did Gavin react? Does he know what happened?”
“He knows,” Marcus sighed. “But not the full version. Arthur told him his mother committed financial crimes and had to leave. And the attack on Olivia? Not a word. Fears his son won’t handle the full truth.”
I shook my head. The man who couldn’t protect his wife from his own mother now didn’t even know the whole truth about what happened. But perhaps it was better for everyone this way.
“Does he want to see Olivia?” I asked.
“No,” Marcus looked at his sleeping niece. “Arthur said Gavin took the news of the divorce surprisingly calmly. Seems he long ago resigned himself to the fact that their marriage was a mistake.”
I didn’t know whether to rejoice or be sad about this. On one hand, the lack of resistance facilitated the divorce process. On the other, the ease with which Gavin gave up his pregnant wife spoke poorly of him.
“And what about the foundation?” I asked, remembering where it all started.
“Arthur personally took charge of it,” answered Marcus. “Conducted an audit, returned the stolen money, changed the management. Is trying to minimize reputational damage.”
On the fourth day, Doc Wallace came to examine Olivia again. He was pleased with her condition. Bones were knitting, bruises healing, the baby developing normally.
“In a week she can be moved home,” he said, packing his bag. “But complete rest for another month.”
On the seventh day, Marcus arrived with important news.
“Documents signed,” he said, handing Olivia a thick folder. “Divorce processed expeditiously thanks to Arthur’s connections. Compensation transferred to your account, a sum enough for a comfortable life and the child’s education.”
Olivia held the folder on her lap, hesitating to open it. “Is that it?” she asked quietly. “Is it the end?”
“Almost.” Marcus sat down next to her. “There’s one more thing. Arthur wants to meet with you.”
My daughter and I exchanged glances. We hadn’t expected this.
“Why?” she asked warily.
“He didn’t explain.” Marcus shrugged. “Said only that it’s important and it’s not a threat. If you agree, he’ll come tomorrow. Alone, no security.”
Olivia thought, mechanically stroking her stomach, a gesture that had become habitual over these days.
“Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll meet him. It’s the least I can do after everything he’s done for us.”
Arthur Sterling arrived the next day at exactly noon. We heard the sound of an engine, and Marcus went out to meet him, leaving Olivia and me in the cabin. A few minutes later, the door opened and a tall, gray-haired man appeared on the threshold in a simple warm coat—no suit, no security, no usual gloss of a powerful businessman.
“Hello, Olivia,” he said, standing at the threshold as if hesitant to enter further. “Thank you for agreeing to meet.”
My daughter nodded, gesturing for him to sit. I started to leave to give them privacy, but Arthur stopped me.
“Stay, Ms. Vance. What I want to say concerns you too.”
He sat on the bench opposite Olivia, folded his hands on his knees. For the first time, I saw in him not a stern businessman, but simply a tired man crushed by the betrayal of loved ones.
“I came to apologize,” he began, looking Olivia straight in the eye. “For not seeing. Not stopping. Not protecting. I was blind, too busy with business to notice what was happening in my own family.”
Olivia was silent, waiting for him to continue.
“Lucille has always been a complicated person,” he continued. “But I never thought she was capable of such cruelty. Especially toward a pregnant woman, the mother of my grandchild.”
His voice trembled on the last words. I suddenly realized that for this stern man, impending grandfatherhood meant more than one could imagine.
“You aren’t to blame, Arthur,” Olivia said softly. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have,” he shook his head. “It’s my responsibility.”
He fell silent, gathering his thoughts, then continued. “I came not only to apologize. I would like, if you allow, to remain in the child’s life. To be a grandfather.”
Olivia raised her eyebrows in surprise. None of us expected this.
“I understand. It’s a strange request after everything that happened,” he hurried to add. “I’ll understand if you refuse, but I’m sixty-five, and this child is my only chance to continue the line. Gavin is unlikely to ever become a father again. He’s too weak for a family.”
In his words, there was no reproach toward his son, only a sad statement of fact. I suddenly felt strange compassion for this man who had spent so many years building an empire to pass on to heirs who didn’t justify his hopes.
Olivia was silent for a long time, looking out the window at the frozen lake, then turned to her father-in-law.
“I won’t deprive the child of a grandfather,” she said quietly. “You can see him or her. On the condition that Lucille never appears in our life, and that Gavin doesn’t pretend to be a loving father occasionally.”
“Of course,” Arthur exhaled with relief. “Lucille will never return. And as for Gavin, I’ll talk to him. He must make a choice: either be a real father or don’t interfere at all.”
He paused, then took an envelope out of the inner pocket of his coat.
“One more thing,” he said, handing it to Olivia. “These are keys to a house in Pine Creek, not far from here, and the deed in your name.”
Olivia looked at the envelope in bewilderment. “Why?”
“I thought you’d need somewhere to live,” Arthur shrugged. “Quiet place, clean air, good for a child. And close enough to the city if work or school is needed.”
“This is very generous, but…” Olivia began.
“Please accept,” Arthur interrupted her gently. “Not as compensation—you already received that by the agreement—but as a gift to my future grandchild.”