Chapter 6 - RECOVERY IN THE SAFEHOUSE
When I opened my eyes, the harsh hospital smell was gone.
Instead, I smelled lavender, cedarwood, and fresh coffee.
I was lying in a large, luxurious four-poster bed inside a master suite with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a sweeping estate covered in snow. A cardiac monitor was still attached to my chest, but its beep was soft, reassuring.
"Mommy!"
Maisie ran toward the bed, but Dottie caught her just in time. "Easy, baby! Mommy's heart is still healing."
"Maisie..." I rasped, my throat dry.
Damian stepped out from the doorway, holding a glass of water. He helped me sit up slightly, holding the glass to my lips.
"Where are we?" I asked after swallowing.
"My estate in Bucks County," Damian said quietly. "The surgery was a success, Clara. Your valve has been repaired. But St. Catherine's was no longer safe for you."
He explained what had happened while I was under anesthesia—Julian’s attempt to eliminate me, the paper trail leading back to Victor’s hidden offshore networks, and how Julian was planning a hostile takeover of Russo Holdings using stolen funds.
"You brought me into your home?" I asked, bewildered. "We're just strangers, Damian."
"You were an innocent victim of my family's greed," Damian said, looking down at Maisie, who was now quietly coloring at a desk across the room. "And your daughter sold her four-dollar flowers to save you. I don't leave debts unpaid, Clara."
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During the next three weeks, as I recovered, the massive estate became our refuge. Damian, who had always been portrayed in newspapers as a cold, ruthless businessman, revealed a different side. Every evening, he would leave his study to have dinner with us. He played chess with Dottie, read bedtime stories to Maisie, and sat by my bedside talking about his plans to build medical clinics across the state.
An undeniable warmth began to grow between us—a quiet, powerful bond born out of shared pain and protection.
