Chapter 226: Drowning in Grief

Jasmine's POV

Three weeks passed with agonizing slowness. Every day, I checked my phone obsessively, waiting for news from the search teams. Every day, the call would come, and every day, the news was the same: nothing.

The official search had been scaled back after two weeks, much to Richard and my father's fury. Only the private teams remained now, combing the mountains with diminishing hope. The authorities had all but declared it a recovery mission rather than a rescue—they were looking for a body, not a survivor.

I refused to accept that. In my heart, I couldn't give up hope that Louis was alive somewhere, fighting to get back to me. But my mind... my mind understood the reality of the situation.

The first prenatal appointment should have been a moment of joy. Instead, I sat alone in the doctor's office, staring at the sonogram screen while hot tears rolled down my cheeks. The tiny flicker on the screen was our baby's heartbeat—strong and steady. Louis should have been there to see it, to hold my hand, to share in the wonder of the life we had created.

"Everything looks perfect," the doctor assured me. "You're doing well, Mrs. Mitchell."

I nodded automatically, unable to speak. Nothing was perfect. Nothing would ever be perfect again without Louis.

Back at the house, I found Daisy waiting for me. Her face lit up when I handed her the sonogram picture.

"Oh, Jasmine," she breathed, tears filling her eyes. "Our little miracle."

I managed a small smile, the first in weeks. "The doctor says everything's progressing normally."

Daisy pulled me into a tight hug. "Louis would be so proud," she whispered against my hair.

I stiffened at her words. "Would be?"

Daisy smiled. "Yes, of course he would."

I forced a faint smile, turned away, and headed toward the stairs.

"I need to get some rest," I said, turning sideways, already halfway up the stairs.

In the sanctuary of our bedroom, I curled up on Louis's side of the bed, breathing in the fading scent of him on his pillow. My phone rang—Marcus checking in, as he did multiple times a day. I let it go to voicemail. I couldn't face another conversation filled with careful avoidance of what we all feared was true.

That night, I dreamed of Louis. He was calling to me from somewhere far away, his voice weak and fading. I tried to reach him, but my feet were frozen to the ground. I screamed his name, struggling to move, to find him before it was too late.

I woke with a gasp, my heart pounding. The room was dark, silent except for my ragged breathing. For a moment, I thought I felt Louis's presence beside me, as though he'd reached across time and space to comfort me.

"I know you're alive," I whispered into the darkness. "I can feel it."

The next morning, Richard called with news. Not about Louis, but about Alan Blackwood.

"We've got a lead," he said, his voice tense with suppressed excitement. "One of his known associates was spotted in Rome. Daniel's team is closing in."

My hand tightened around the phone. "You think Alan's there too?"

"It's the best lead we've had. I'm flying to Italy tonight."

"I want to come with you."

"Jasmine," Richard's voice softened, "you know that's not a good idea in your condition."

"I need to do something, Richard," I pleaded. "I can't just sit here waiting anymore. It's killing me."

A heavy sigh came through the line. "I understand, believe me. But Louis would never forgive me if I let you put yourself in danger, especially now."

The mention of Louis sent a fresh wave of pain through me. "At least keep me updated. Every step of the way."

"Of course," he promised. "We're going to find Alan, Jasmine."

After hanging up, I stood by the window, watching the gardeners tending to the grounds. Life continued around me, while I remained frozen in that terrible moment when Louis disappeared over the cliff edge.

Emma found me there an hour later, still staring out at nothing.

"Hey," she said softly. "Want to take a walk? It's beautiful outside."

I shook my head. "I can't."

"Jas, you need fresh air. You haven't left the house in days."

"I said I can't!"

Emma didn't flinch. Instead, she moved beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I miss him too," she whispered. "So much."

The gentle words broke through the wall I'd built around my emotions. Tears came hot and fast, and I turned into Emma's embrace, sobbing against her shoulder. She held me tightly.

"I don't know how to do this," I confessed. "How to live without him. How to raise our child alone."

"You're not alone," Emma said fiercely. "You have all of us. My parents, your father, me. We'll be there every step of the way."

I nodded against her shoulder.

Later that evening, my father called.

"Jasmine, I need you to come to the house. Right now."

My heart leapt into my throat. "Did they find him? Is it Louis?"

A pause that stretched too long. "Just come, sweetheart. I'll send a car."

The drive to my father's house was the longest of my life. My mind raced with possibilities. Had they found Louis? Was he alive? Dead? Or was it about Alan? Had they caught him?

When the car pulled up to the imposing gates of the Russo mansion, I could barely breathe through the anxiety constricting my chest.

Marcus was waiting for me in the foyer, his face grave. Isabella stood beside him, her eyes red-rimmed.

"What is it?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "Tell me."

Marcus took a deep breath. "Richard called. They found Alan Blackwood."

My blood ran cold. "And?"

"He's dead. Shot in the head, execution-style."

I sank into the nearest chair, my legs suddenly unable to support me. "Dead?"

Marcus shook his head. "He was dead when they found him."

I stared at my father, struggling to process his words. Alan was dead. The man who had taken Louis from me.

"They're still searching the mountains," Marcus assured me, kneeling beside my chair and taking my hands in his. "This changes nothing about that. We're going to find Louis."

But I could see the truth in his eyes, the truth none of us wanted to face. We might never know what happened to Louis. He might remain forever lost in those mountains, and I would be left with this gaping wound that would never heal.

"I want to go back," I said suddenly, my voice steadier than I expected. "To Switzerland. To the mountains. I need to be there, Dad."

Marcus and Isabella exchanged worried glances.

"Jasmine, you're pregnant," Isabella reminded me gently. "The altitude, the stress—"

"I don't care!" I cried, jumping to my feet. "I can't stay here anymore, just waiting! I need to be there when they find him. I need to..."

My voice broke, and the rest of the sentence remained unspoken. I needed to be there in case they found his body. I needed to say goodbye.

Marcus's face softened. "Let me talk to your doctor first," he said. "If they clear it, we'll go back. Together."

I nodded, clinging to this small concession like a lifeline. Going back to the mountains wouldn't bring Louis back, wouldn't change what had happened. But somehow, being closer to where I'd last seen him alive felt important. Necessary.

That night, alone in my old bedroom at the Russo house, I placed my hand on my growing belly and whispered to our child.

"We're going to find your daddy," I promised. "One way or another, we're going to bring him home."