Olivia’s POV
I left the hospital against medical advice and against common sense. My legs ached. My head throbbed. But none of that compared to the heaviness in my chest.
I was pregnant.
And the father? A stranger whose face I barely remembered—aside from the way he looked at me with disgust just days ago.
I dragged myself into my tiny apartment and locked the door behind me. For the first time in hours, I was alone.
But instead of peace, the silence made everything louder.
I sank to the floor, clutching my stomach.
A baby.
There was life growing inside me. And I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t know if I wanted to keep it.
I didn’t know if I could.
There was no one to call. No one I trusted.
Tears ran freely down my cheeks.
I pressed a hand over my mouth to muffle the sobs.
I didn’t want to be weak. But I was terrified.
---
The next morning, I woke to a knock on my door.
I wasn’t expecting anyone.
I tiptoed to the peephole.
No one was there.
But there was a white envelope on the floor.
I opened the door slowly, scanned the hallway, and picked up the envelope.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
“Leave while you still can. Some mistakes cost too much.”
There was no name. No return address.
Just those words.
My blood ran cold.
I slammed the door shut and locked it.
Someone knew. About the baby? About the hospital?
Or was it something else?
My hands trembled as I reread the note. My stomach twisted.
Who would send this? Leo?
No. He didn’t strike me as the secret-letter type. Arrogant, yes. Threatening? Not like this.
I dropped the note and backed away like it could explode.
Someone was watching me.
And they didn’t want me here.
---
Leo’s POV
I hadn’t seen Olivia since she left the hospital.
I wanted to give her space, but something about the way she stormed off unsettled me.
I’d tried to reach her. No response.
I drove by the apartment I’d quietly had someone trace.
Call it stalking, call it guilt—I just needed to make sure she was okay.
I stayed in the car, watching the building. Nothing unusual. No one went in or out.
But then I saw her curtains shift.
She was there. Alone.
I leaned back in my seat and exhaled.
But deep down, something didn’t feel right.
I wasn’t sure if it was guilt…
Or a warning.
---
Unknown POV
She got the letter.
Good.
Maybe now she’ll listen.
Maybe now she’ll stop digging where she doesn’t belong.
Because next time?
I won’t send a warning.
I’ll send a message.
In blood.