Stephanie's fingers trembled as she dialed Leo's number. Her voice, though strained, remained steady when he answered.
"There was an attack. I'm okay," she began, her words clipped, breath shallow. "But she—my mom—she's hurt. We're at St. Clara's."
There was a moment of silence on the other end. Then Leo's voice came through, tight with urgency. "I'm on my way."
Fifteen minutes later, the door to the hospital room swung open, revealing Leo and Anita. Stephanie was sitting by the hospital bed, watching
her mother—Elizabeth—who lay unconscious, bandaged with a visible bruise across her temple. Leo and Anita rushed forward. Anita wrapped
her arms around Steph first, and Leo bent down to study her face with intense worry.
"You okay?" Leo asked, voice low.
"I'm fine," Steph nodded, glancing between the two. Her brows lifted in surprise. "You didn't leave?"
Anita pulled back, her eyes soft but shining with emotion. "No. Leo… he stopped me. We finally talked."
Stephanie gave a tired, teasing smirk. "I thought you were running off again."
"I was," Anita admitted with a sheepish grin. "But someone stopped me and said he'd ask me out properly." She glanced at Leo, her voice lighter,
trying to lift the heaviness in the room.
Leo's hand brushed Anita's gently as she sat beside Stephanie. The gesture wasn't lost on Steph. She arched an eyebrow, smirking again as she
watched the quiet exchange of affection.
Elizabeth stirred, wincing as her eyes opened. She turned slightly, offering a weak smile. "Leo… Anita."
"Hi, Mrs. Quinn," Anita said softly, polite but kind. "Are you in much pain?"
"Not as much as before," Elizabeth rasped.
Leo's expression was unreadable as he looked at his mother. "Thank you… for stepping in. For saving Steph."
Elizabeth's gaze flicked toward him, full of regret. "I'd do it again," she said. "A thousand times over."
There was a pause. The room hung heavy with emotion. Steph stood, folding her arms. "You shouldn't have been there. You could've died."
"I couldn't let them hurt you," Elizabeth murmured.
Leo's posture remained stiff as he regarded his mother. "So… your golden daughter couldn't show up?"
Elizabeth sighed, weariness overtaking her features. "Elena lives in Austria. She's married now, has a son. I didn't want to disturb her—not unless
I knew you two were alright."
Leo nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching but not smiling. "Thanks… for being there for Steph."
Anita cleared her throat dramatically, leaning forward. "Okay, can we not sink into a cloud of tension and regret again? We're all here. Alive.
No bullets flying. Maybe let's just appreciate that for a second?"
Steph chuckled quietly, and even Elizabeth gave a slight smile.
As the moment settled, Stephanie stepped closer to the bed. "I'll come see you tomorrow."
Elizabeth reached out, but Steph only offered a small smile and stepped back. "We're not there yet."
"I understand," Elizabeth said softly. "I'll wait. I just want the chance."
Leo came around to Steph's side and placed a hand on her shoulder. Anita stood beside him. The three of them walked out quietly.
Just as they reached the entrance of the hospital, the sound of screeching tires met their ears. A sleek, black car pulled up, and Nathan emerged,
his face stormy, fists clenched. Steph's eyes widened, and she knew the next part of this night wasn't over.
Rain lashed against the windows of the Voss estate, thunder rolling in the distance. Inside the dimly lit lounge, Victor Voss sat with his son,
Damien, flanked by the two men Greg had sent for the job—Marek and Josiah.
"We had her," Marek said gruffly. "The job was almost done. Then this woman showed up—fought like hell."
Josiah added, "She called Stephanie her daughter. We didn't stick around once backup started arriving."
Victor straightened in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "What did she look like?"
"Mid-fifties," Marek said. "Brown hair,light eyes."
Victor's eyes widened. His hand trembled as he slammed it against the armrest. "She's alive?"
Damien looked between them, confused. "Who the hell is she?"
Victor exhaled sharply, standing and pacing. "Stephanie's mother. I've been searching for her for years. She vanished after her husband's death.
I thought… I assumed she was gone."
"And if she's not?" Damien asked, voice low.
Victor's face darkened. "If her husband told her what I did… we're finished. She's the only one left who might know everything."
Marek leaned forward. "What are your orders?"
"Find her," Victor growled. "Eliminate her. Quietly. No mess. No witnesses."
Marek and Josiah nodded and left without another word.
Damien stayed behind, watching his father. "You're really scared of her, aren't you?"
Victor didn't answer at first. He moved to the fireplace, lit a cigar, and stared into the flickering flames. "She's the only loose end I didn't tie.
And now she's back."
"Maybe ghosts don't stay buried," Damien muttered.
Victor took a long drag of his cigar. The fire crackled behind him as he whispered, "Then we bury them again. This time for good."