Chapter 8
I woke up in the hospital three days later.
My leg was broken.
Three ribs.
A concussion.
But I was alive.
Marcus was sitting next to the bed.
His face was grim.
“Leo’s fine,” he said before I could ask.
“A few scrapes. Scared to death, but physically okay. He’s in the waiting room with Mia. He’s been asking for you every five minutes.”
I closed my eyes.
Thank God.
“The driver?”
“Caught him two hours ago. Hired gun. Out on parole for armed robbery. He confessed within ten minutes. Said Helen paid him $50,000 to run you down. Said she told him to make it look like an accident. If he missed, he was supposed to try again.”
I nodded.
I wasn’t even surprised anymore.
Helen would never stop.
Not until one of us was dead.
“Where is she now?”
“Back in jail. No bail this time. The judge denied it. She’s facing attempted murder charges on top of everything else. If convicted, she’s looking at thirty years minimum. Daniel took a plea deal this morning. He’s testifying against her in exchange for five years probation and mandatory parenting classes. He’s also given up all parental rights to Leo. He never wants to see him again.”
I didn’t feel anything about Daniel.
No anger.
No sadness.
Just nothing.
He’d never been a father to Leo anyway.
Good riddance.
“Can I see Leo?” I asked.
Five minutes later, they wheeled him in.
He ran to the bed.
Climbed up next to me as carefully as he could.
Put his small hand on my face.
“Mommy,” he whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks.
“I thought you were dead. I thought the bad lady took you away forever.”
I held him with my good arm.
Kissed the top of his head.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I promise. No one is ever going to hurt us again.”
The next two weeks were a blur of doctors, physical therapy, and legal meetings.
Helen’s trial was scheduled to start in three months.
The prosecution had a mountain of evidence.
The hired driver.
The emails.
The deepfake files.
The video of her hitting Leo.
It was an open-and-shut case.
She was going away for a very long time.
I was discharged from the hospital on a Friday.
Marcus drove me home.
Leo and Mia had decorated the whole penthouse with balloons and “Welcome Home Mommy” signs.
For the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe.
Like we were finally safe.
I should have known better.
That night, after Leo was asleep, there was a soft knock on the door.
I opened it.
Two police officers were standing there.
Behind them, in handcuffs, was Helen.
She’d somehow gotten a judge to sign a one-hour release order, to come to my house and “collect her remaining personal items from the family safe.”
She looked terrible.
Thinner.
Paler.
Her eyes were dead.
The officers stepped inside.
Stood by the door.
Helen walked past me.
Into the living room.
She looked around.
At the photos of Leo on the wall.
At the life I’d built.
“You won,” she said, her voice flat.
“Everything I had. Everything I built. It’s all yours. Congratulations.”
I didn’t say anything.
I just watched her.
She turned to face me.
And then I saw it.
Her hand was in her pocket.
Clenched around something hard.
Metal.
The officers hadn’t searched her properly.
She pulled it out.
A small silver gun.
The officers moved.
But she was faster.
She stepped back.
Pressed the gun to her own temple.
“Stop!” she screamed.
“One more step and I pull the trigger!”
The officers froze.
Hands up.
Helen looked at me.
Tears streaming down her face.
“You took everything,” she sobbed.
“My company. My son. My future. I have nothing left. Nothing. If I can’t have anything… then neither can you.”
She moved the gun away from her own head.
May you like
Pointed it straight at me.
“Goodbye, Elena.”
