Chapter 5
Serena's POV
Her voice was filled with panic and alarm—she sounded like a completely different person from the one who'd been speaking to me in the hallway just seconds before.
Footsteps rushed in from every direction. Someone called my name. Someone shouted for a doctor. My consciousness began to slip away, piece by piece.
When I woke, I was lying in a hospital bed with gauze wrapped around my forehead—seven stitches underneath. The doctor said it was a mild concussion and that I needed to stay for observation.
The wound at the back of my head still throbbed with a dull ache. When the nurse came in to change my dressing, she mentioned casually, "Mrs. Serena, your husband is here."
Then her expression turned slightly awkward. "Though he went up to the VIP ward first. Miss Tiffany said she'd had a fright and was experiencing abdominal discomfort, so she checked herself in as well."
I said nothing.
Tiffany had pushed me down a staircase. I had seven stitches in my forehead and a concussion. And she claimed she'd had a fright and checked herself into a VIP ward.
And Leo had gone to see her first.
I closed my eyes and swallowed the fury down.
Some time later—I wasn't sure how long—the door to my room was pushed open.
Leo stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the gauze on my forehead. He frowned slightly. "How could you be so careless?"
When those words left his mouth, I almost thought I'd misheard.
"Careless?" I looked at him. "Tiffany pushed me down the stairs."
Leo's expression shifted, but not in the direction I'd expected. The look in his eyes was one of distrust—scrutiny, even.
"Serena, Noah just passed away. Tiffany's in a very fragile state right now. For you to accuse her like this—"
"I'm not accusing her of anything." I cut him off, my voice calm. "You can check the security footage."
Leo's lips parted, but before he could speak, Tiffany appeared in the doorway behind him. "Leo," her voice was soft, tinged with a faint tremor, "I came to apologize to Serena."
Leo turned to look at her, his tone immediately layered with concern. "Why are you up? You should be resting in your room."
Tiffany shook her head and walked into the room, her gaze settling on me.
"Serena, I'm sorry." She lowered her head, her lashes trembling. "I lost control of my emotions. Noah just died, and I wasn't myself… I never meant to hurt you."
She admitted it.
Leo glanced at Tiffany, then turned back to face me. "See? She regrets it. Noah's death has hit her very hard—you should try to understand. Whatever compensation you want, I'll agree to it. Let's just put this behind us."
Compensation.
My husband stood beside my hospital bed and used the word compensation to settle the matter of his mistress pushing me down a flight of stairs.
As if mediating a business dispute.
Pay up. Move on.
I let out a cold laugh. "Anything?"
Leo blinked, apparently not expecting that response. He nodded. "Within reason."
I pushed the blanket aside, sat up, reached over and lifted the IV bottle off its stand, then swung my bare feet to the floor and walked toward Tiffany.
Leo's brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"
A flicker of unease crossed Tiffany's face, but she probably didn't believe I'd actually do it. In all the time she'd known me, I had never raised a hand against anyone. So she stood there, motionless.
The IV bottle connected with her forehead with a dull, brittle crack.
Tiffany screamed, both hands flying to her forehead. Blood seeped between her fingers, running down along them, staining her nails and the collar of her gown crimson.
Leo's reaction was faster than I'd anticipated.
He lunged instinctively toward Tiffany, shoving me aside as he passed.
The force was considerable. My back slammed hard into the sharp edge of the door frame, a spike of pain shooting up my spine. I let out a stifled grunt but didn't fall—I braced my hand against the frame and steadied myself.
Leo crouched before Tiffany, cupping her face in both hands, gently brushing the blood-matted hair from her forehead to examine the wound.
"Let me see—don't move…" His voice was urgent and tender.
I leaned against the door frame, watching the scene, then spoke. "That's the compensation I wanted."
Leo's hands went still.
"She pushed me down the stairs and split my head open. Seven stitches," I said. "Now I've given her a gash on hers. Within reason—not excessive, wouldn't you say?"
Leo whipped his head around and glared at me. The fury in his eyes was almost incandescent. But he said nothing—just wrapped an arm around Tiffany's shoulders and guided her out of the room.
As Tiffany passed me, blood ran down her brow bone, trickling past the corner of her eye. She blinked once. In that instant our gazes met, and in her eyes there was no pain, no wounded innocence—only ice-cold hatred.
About ten minutes later, Leo came back. He stood before the bed, his face dark.
"The wound on Tiffany's forehead is deep." His voice was low, threaded with unmistakable anger. "Do you have any idea what you just did? She's pregnant."
"When she pushed me down those stairs," I said, looking up at him, "she didn't stop to consider that I might have died."
Leo fell silent.
I spoke directly. "Leo, I want a divorce."
His hand dropped from his brow. He looked at me, his gaze carrying a kind of weary impatience.
"Serena, Tiffany isn't pressing charges against you. You—"
"This has nothing to do with that." I held his gaze. "You betrayed this marriage. You're with your brother's wife. She's carrying your child. This marriage has lost all meaning."
Leo closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, whatever trace of patience had remained was gone.
"Noah just died. The family is in chaos. I have so much to deal with that I don't even have time to sleep." His voice turned cold. "Besides, our marriage isn't just about the two of us. The partnership between the Kensingtons and the Harringtons is tied to it. If word got out that we were divorcing—"
He paused, then looked at me.
"Your grandmother, Lady Lydia—she would be the first to refuse."
Lydia again.
My fingers clenched beneath the blanket, nails digging into my palms.
"Focus on recovering," he said. "You don't need to come to the funeral hall setup tomorrow."
Then he walked out.
I lay alone on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time.
A racing driver on the track has to know when to hit the accelerator and when to ease off.
This was not the time to floor it.
If I forced a divorce during Noah's mourning period, I'd be painting a target on my own back. The family would call me heartless. Outsiders would gossip. Once the news spread, Lydia would certainly take notice.
But holding off didn't mean giving up. I was simply waiting for a better corner.
I picked up my phone and dialed Willow.
"Lo, the divorce isn't going to happen right now." I leaned against the pillow, my voice low. "Leo refused. With Noah dead, if I push it, the fallout will be enormous."
Then I told her everything that had happened—Tiffany pushing me down the stairs, and me smashing the bottle against her head.
Willow's voice shot up. "You hit her?!"
"I did."
"…Good for you!" Her tone shifted from shock to a kind of relieved, almost laughing satisfaction. "When you were crying, I had no idea how to comfort you. I thought you—"
"Thought I couldn't let go of Leo? That I was grieving our love?" I curved my lips. "I was upset, yes—but only at my own stupidity, for being deceived for so long."
"Now that's the Serena I know." There was a smile in Willow's voice. "So what's the plan?"
"Wait for the right moment and bring it up with Leo again," I said. "But in the meantime, I need a favor."
"Find out where Tiffany got the prescription medication she was giving Noah. A wife couldn't possibly be unaware of her husband's fatal allergy."
Silence on the other end for a beat.
"You're building a contingency?" Willow's tone changed—switching from best-friend mode to lawyer mode.
"It's too early to call it that," I said. "But I don't think Noah's death was as straightforward as it seems."
"Got it. Leave it with me."
After hanging up, I set the phone on the pillow beside me and settled back.
Outside the window, the sky had gone completely dark. The city lights blurred together in a distant band of hazy gold.
Once I had enough cards in my hand, Leo wouldn't be able to hide behind excuses anymore.
But for now, I had to endure.
