Chapter 183
Elena： POV
The silence stretched between us after Julian's last words, heavy with the weight of everything he'd just revealed. I stared out the airplane window, watching clouds drift past like ghosts, trying to process the enormity of what Victoria had done to my family.
But something was gnawing at me—a burning question that demanded an answer.
"And her?" I said suddenly, turning back to face Julian. "That woman who poisoned my mother's final days, who destroyed everything—you just let her walk free?"
Julian's jaw tightened, and I saw something dangerous flash in his eyes. "Before your mother was hospitalized, I'd already identified Victoria as the mastermind behind the attack that caused your miscarriage. I'd arranged to have her sent to a psychiatric facility—she'd been claiming depression as a defense, trying to avoid criminal charges."
His hands clenched into fists on the armrests. "But on the way to Bellevue, she disappeared. The psychiatrist I'd hired to evaluate her—Dr. Whitmore—was found two days later. His car was pulled from a river in Westchester County. Him inside it."
I felt my stomach drop. "She killed him?"
"The official ruling was accidental drowning," Julian said bitterly. "But the timeline was too convenient. Dr. Whitmore left the city with Victoria in custody at 2 PM. By 4 PM, his phone went silent. By 6 PM, his car was in the water."
He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration radiating from every line of his body. "The investigation found sedatives in his bloodstream—the same kind Victoria had been prescribed for her supposed depression. But there was no physical evidence tying her to the scene."
Hearing this, my fingernails dug deep into my palms, a wave of helpless fury washing over me. The injustice of it—that she could orchestrate so much destruction and simply vanish—made my chest burn with rage.
"So she just—vanished?" I whispered.
"Yes," Julian said, and the word was heavy with years of rage and helplessness. "We've been searching for her ever since. Private investigators, security teams, even contacts in law enforcement. We've deployed every resource at our disposal, but she's like a real ghost—only leaving faint traces in the dark web and encrypted communications."
His voice grew more strained. "We're trying to piece together her location from these fragmented bits of information. Sometimes we get close—a digital footprint here, a financial transaction there—but by the time we arrive, she's already gone."
I stared at him, my mind reeling. This woman—this Victoria—had orchestrated violence against me that cost me my first child, murdered a psychiatrist to escape custody, poisoned my dying mother with lies, and then simply vanished into thin air like smoke.
"Why?" I heard myself ask. "Why would she do all of this? What did I ever do to her?"
Julian's expression shifted into something that looked almost like shame. "You existed," he said quietly. "You were married to me, carrying my child, and she couldn't stand it. Victoria had convinced herself that we were meant to be together—that she'd saved my life when we were ten years old, that I owed her everything."
The words hit me like physical blows, each revelation more horrifying than the last.
"When my grandfather forced me to marry you instead of her, she made it her mission to destroy you. Your reputation, your pregnancy, your mother, your life. She wanted you erased, Elena. Completely and utterly erased."
"And now she's out there somewhere," I said, my voice flat. "Free. While my mother is dead, my child is dead, and I can't even remember most of it."
Julian leaned forward, his hands clasped so tightly his knuckles were white. "I swear to you, Elena—the moment we find her, the moment she surfaces anywhere in the world, I will make sure she pays for everything she's done."
There was something in his voice—a cold, absolute certainty—that made me believe him. But it also terrified me. Because if Victoria was still out there, if she was watching and waiting—what would stop her from coming after me again? After Lila?
I looked down at Lila, sleeping peacefully between us, completely unaware of the monster hunting us.
"What do we do?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.
Julian's hand finally made contact with mine, warm and steady despite the tremor I could feel running through him. "I'll protect both of you," he said quietly. "I promise."
His thumb brushed across my knuckles, and I felt an unwanted shiver run through me at the contact.
"I know you're here to visit Josephine's grave. I know that's why you came back to New York." His voice dropped lower, more gentle. "Let me take you there. Let me be there with you when you say goodbye to her."
I wanted to refuse. Wanted to tell him I didn't need him, didn't want him anywhere near this deeply personal moment. But the truth was, I was terrified.
"I don't even remember her," I whispered, and I hated how broken I sounded. "How am I supposed to mourn someone I can't remember?"
"You loved her," Julian said simply. "Even if you can't remember it right now, that love is still inside you somewhere. She raised you, Elena. She was the only mother you ever knew, and she loved you more than anything in this world."
His words made something crack inside my chest—a grief I couldn't fully access but could feel hovering just beyond my reach.
Before I could respond, Lila stirred between us, her eyes fluttering open. She looked around in confusion for a moment, then focused on me with those big, innocent eyes.
"Mama?" she mumbled, rubbing her face. "Are we there yet?"
"Almost, baby," I said softly, smoothing her curls back from her forehead. "We're landing soon."
She sat up, yawning, and then her gaze landed on Julian. For a moment, I tensed, but she just gave him a small, sleepy smile.
"Hi, sad uncle."
Julian's expression softened in a way that transformed his usually stern features. "Hi, sweetheart. Did you have a good nap?"
Lila nodded, then looked between us, her small face scrunching up. "Why does everyone look scared? Are we in trouble?"
The innocent question hit me like a freight train.
"No, baby," I lied, forcing a smile. "We're not in trouble. We're just going to visit someone very important. Someone who loved Mama very much."
Lila tilted her head, processing this with the seriousness only a four-year-old could muster. "Like Grandma Celeste?"
"Sort of," I said, my throat tight. "My mother I had before, but I can't remember her right now."
"Oh." Lila seemed to accept this with the easy adaptability of childhood. Then she looked at Julian. "Is sad uncle coming too?"
Julian glanced at me, clearly waiting for my permission. I hesitated, every instinct screaming at me to keep my distance. But Lila was looking at him with such open curiosity, and the thought of facing that cemetery alone—
"Yes," I heard myself say. "Sad uncle is coming too."
The plane began its descent, and I felt my ears pop with the pressure change. Through the window, I could see the New York skyline emerging from the clouds—a forest of steel and glass that should have felt like home but instead felt like a war zone.
"I want to see everything," I said quietly, still looking out the window. "After we visit the cemetery. I want to see all the evidence. The security footage from the hospital, the audio recording, the investigation files. Everything you claim to have about Victoria and what she did."
"You will," Julian promised. "I'll show you all of it. And then you can decide for yourself what you want to believe."