Chapter 48
Christiana POV.
My thoughts were spinning as I lay on the hospital bed, the sterile scent of disinfectant filling the room. The bandages on my ankle were tight, a constant reminder of how close we had come to losing everything. The kids were safe, thank God. They were at the hotel now, being looked after by their nanny and the bodyguards. But I couldn’t rest. Not with so much at stake. The phone buzzed in my hand as I made call after call, trying to piece together what had happened. The authorities were involved, of course–this wasn’t just some freak accident. It was arson, a deliberate attempt to kill us. But who would go so far? My mind kept circling back to Mrs. Margaret Alistair. It seemed too obvious, and yet, the woman had always been a thorn in my side. She despised me, yes, but would she really go as far as to kill her own grandchildren? It didn’t make sense. The thought was insane, but the world I lived in was full of insanity.
“Christiana, you need to rest,” Daniel’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. He was sitting in the chair beside me, his face etched with concern. He’d been here since the moment I was brought in, refusing to leave. Every time I tried to convince him I was fine, that he didn’t need to stay, he’d shake his head and brush me off.
“Daniel, you really don’t have to worry about me,” I said, trying to sound firm, but my voice wavered. I was tired, and my mind. was a filled with thoughts that I could barely keep track of
His eyes softened, but there was a determination behind them that I recognized all too well. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not after what happened. You and the kids need someone by your side right now.
I sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “You’ve already done so much. I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden,” he insisted “You never could be. His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair from my face, and I felt a pang of guilt. I shouldn’t have been relying on him like this, letting him care for me when my mind was still tangled with thoughts of Alex.
As if on cue, my thoughts flickered back to the scene at the diner some days ago, to Alex’s face twisted with jealousy and rage.. For a moment, I wondered if he could be behind this, but I dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. No matter what had happened between us, Alex would never put the children in danger.
The door to the room creaked open, and I looked up to see Daniel’s grandmother walking in. Her elegant presence filled the room as she approached the bed, concern lining her aged face:
“Christiana, darling,” she said softly, taking my hand in hers. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m… managing,” I replied, trying to muster a smile. It was comforting to see her, but I could see the worry in her eyes, and it made it hard to pretend that everything was okay.
“You’ve been through so much, dear,” she said, squeezing my hand. “But you’re strong. You’ll get through this, and we’ll make. sure whoever did this pays.
Daniel moved closer, standing beside his grandmother as he looked down at me. “We’re not letting anything happen to you or the kids,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ll make sure of it.”
I glanced between the two of them, their support both comforting and overwhelming. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. “Thank you,” I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
His grandmother patted my hand before letting go. “Rest now, Christiana. We’ll handle everything.”
As she left the room, Daniel remained by my side, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of my thoughts. But even with his comfort, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were spiraling out of control. The fact that someone had tried to kill us was a dark cloud that I couldn’t ignore, and the suspicion that it might be Alex’s mother only made it worse.
Could Mrs. Margaret Alistair really be behind this? The woman had always been cold, calculating, and ruthless. But to go so far as to endanger her own grandchildren, it was madness. And yet, who else would have the motive and the means to pull off something like this?
“Christiana,” Daniel’s voice broke through my thoughts again, “we’ll figure this out. I promise.”
I looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. He was determined to protect us, and I appreciated it more than I could
Chapter 45
put into words. But deep down, I knew this wasn’t over. The nightmare had only just begun, and I had no idea where it would
lead.
But one thing was certain–whoever was behind this attack was going to pay dearly. And I was going to make sure of it.
After some time when the room had settled into a tense silence, I turned my gaze to Daniel. He was still by my side, his posture tense and his eyes scanning me as if he was expecting me to crumble at any moment. But I was far from crumbling. I was tired, yes, and still reeling from everything that had happened, but I was strong. I had to be.
“Daniel” I began, my voice softer than I intended, “you don’t need to stay. I’m okay now. Really.”
He shook his head, his jaw tightening as he looked at me with that same determined expression he’d had since the moment I’d woken up in this hospital bed. “Christiana, I’m not leaving you alone. Not after everything that’s happened. You need someone
here.”
I sighed, trying to muster the energy to argue with him. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I can move around on my own now,” I insisted, shifting in the bed to demonstrate. The pain in my ankle had subsided a bit, and though I wasn’t fully healed, I could manage. “You should go and get some rest yourself.”
“I’m fine, he replied quickly, almost too quickly. His hand reached out to adjust the blanket that had slipped down my side, a gesture that was both tender and frustrating. “I’m staying.”
“Daniel,” I said more firmly this time, reaching out to take his hand in mine, stopping him from fussing over me. “You’ve done enough. You’ve been here every minute since the fire, and I’m so grateful. But I need you to take care of yourself too. Go home. Get some rest.
He looked at me, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was weighing my words, but I could see the stubbornness in his gaze. He wasn’t going to leave easily.
“I’m not going anywhere, Christiana,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Not until I know you’re really okay.”
Frustration bubbled up inside me, mixing with the exhaustion that was pulling at my bones. “Daniel, please,” I pressed, my tone more insistent. “I need some space to think, to breathe, I can’t do that with you hovering over me.”
He flinched slightly at my words, his hand pulling back as if I’d burned him. I immediately regretted my tone, but I knew it was necessary. I needed him to understand that, while his support was appreciated, I needed some time alone.
“Christiana…” he started, but I cut him off.
“Daniel, go,” I said firmly, meeting his gaze with as much strength as I could muster. “Please. I’m asking you to go.”
For a moment, he looked like he was going to argue again, but then his shoulders sagged, and he let out a resigned sigh. He nodded slowly, his expression was of reluctance and something I couldn’t quite place–something like hurt.
“Alright,” he finally said, his voice tinged with defeat. “But if you need anything–anything at all–you call me. I’ll be back in a heartbeat.”
“I know,” I replied, softening my tone. “Thank you, Daniel. I mean it.”
He gave me a small nod, hesitating for just a second longer before he finally turned and headed for the door. As he reached for the handle, he glanced back at me, his eyes lingering as if he was committing the sight of me to memory. I forced a reassuring smile, and after a moment, he opened the door and stepped out, leaving me alone in the quiet of the hospital room.
The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was both a relief and a weight. I closed my eyes, leaning back against the pillows as I tried to steady my thoughts. I needed to be strong, to figure out what was going on, and to protect my children from whatever threat was lurking in the shadows.
But for now, I just needed a moment to breathe.
