Chapter 223

~ Franklin ~

I had put the person I loved most in the hospital due to my secrecy. That was very very bad.

I’d carried Octavia’s limp body from the parking garage to my car in what felt like both a second and an eternity. Clinton had followed behind, his face pale, asking questions I couldn’t answer because I was too busy panicking too.

How and when did she follow me that I did not notice?

"Is she breathing?" he kept asking. "Franklin, is she breathing?"

"Yes," I’d said, though I could barely tell through my own terror. "She’s breathing. Just call the hospital. Tell them we’re coming."

The drive had been a blur of red lights and my foot pressed too hard on the accelerator. I’d kept one hand on Octavia’s knee, as if my touch alone could keep her tethered to consciousness, to safety, to me.

The ER had been chaos. Nurses asking questions. A doctor checking her vitals. I told them her condition too, that she was pregnant.

They’d rushed her to obstetrics. They had done an ultrasound while I stood there holding my breath, waiting for them to tell me something was wrong. Waiting for the worst.

Clinton stood beside me the entire time, his hand on my shoulder, grounding me when I felt like I might fly apart.

"She’s going to be okay," he kept saying. "Octavia’s strong. She’ll be okay."

I wanted to believe him. I desperately wanted to believe him.

Dr. Susan, Octavia’s OBGYN, came in about an hour later. She was calm, professional, and thank God, smiling.

"Your wife fainted due to acute stress," she said, pulling up the ultrasound images on the monitor. "No complications from the fall. The baby is fine. Heartbeat is strong, development is on track. But I need to be clear with you, stress like this isn’t good for her or the pregnancy. She needs rest, she needs calm, and she needs to avoid whatever triggered this episode."

"I had caused this." I admitted quietly. "She found out I’ve been keeping something from her. Something important."

Dr. Susan didn’t judge. She just nodded. "Whatever it is, you need to tell her. Now. Secrets and stress are a dangerous combination, especially during pregnancy."

Clinton and I had sat in the hospital cafeteria for the next few hours, drinking terrible coffee and not talking much. There wasn’t much to say. I’d caused this. My decision to protect Octavia by lying to her had put her and our baby at risk.

"She was right to follow you," Clinton said finally, breaking the silence. "You know that, right?"

"I know," I said, my voice rough. "I know. I was trying to protect her, and instead I hurt her."

"So you tell her everything," Clinton said. "All of it. No more secrets. You let her be part of this."

"She’s pregnant."

"She’s also the smartest person in this situation," Clinton shot back. "And she deserves to know what she’s facing. You don’t get to make that decision for her."

He was right. I knew he was right. But the fear was still there, the fear that telling her would make everything worse, that the stress would hurt the baby, that I’d fail to protect either of them.

-----

Octavia woke up at 6:47 AM, and the first thing she did was glare at me.

Not confused. Not groggy. Just... furious.

"Don’t," she said before I could even open my mouth. "Don’t you dare tell me you were worried or that you love me or any of that. I want the truth. All of it. Right now."

So I told her.

I told her about what Detective Tate found. About Bella being alive. About Miranda. About everything Clinton and I had discovered in those three days of investigation.

She listened without interrupting, her hands clenched into fists on top of the hospital blanket. When I finished, she was quiet for a long moment.

Then: "There’s more."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"In Greece," she said, her voice steady but her eyes blazing. "Someone gave me a note. A threatening note. ’Enjoy it while it lasts.’ I didn’t tell you because you seemed so happy, and I didn’t want to ruin the honeymoon. But apparently, you were keeping secrets too."

My stomach dropped. There had been another threat. Another warning. And she’d been carrying it alone just like I had.

"Octavia, why didn’t you tell me about it?" I said in a furious tone too.

"I am sorry. I know but I did not want to cause problems. I wasn’t sure what it was. We’re done," she said. "We’re done with this. No more lies. No more protecting each other by keeping information. That’s not what partners do. That’s not what a marriage is. If we’re going to survive this, if our baby is going to survive this, we need to trust each other completely. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said immediately. "Yes, I understand. I’m sorry too. I’m so sorry baby."

She reached for my hand, and I took it, gripping it so hard.

"I’m scared," she whispered. "For the baby. For us. For what comes next."

I moved to sit on the edge of her bed, careful not to jostle her. "I will protect you," I said, and I meant every word. "Both of you. Until my last breath. That’s my promise to you."

She squeezed my hand, tears streaming down her face now. "So what do we do? How do we stop her?"

I thought about Bella. About the way she’d obsessed over me, manipulated everyone around her, faked her own death to escape justice. She was dangerous, but she was also predictable. She operated from emotion, from vengeance, from a need to prove something.

And I knew exactly how to exploit that.

"The first step," I said slowly, a plan forming in my mind, "is to force her out of hiding."

"How?" Octavia asked.

I smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. "By doing the one thing she can’t ignore. By making an announcement that will destroy her entire operation if she doesn’t react."

"What announcement?"

"Your promotion," I said. "The Lead Developer position at Flemington. We announce it publicly. Tomorrow. In a press release. We make it clear that you’re now overseeing all development projects, which means you’ll have access to everything."

Octavia’s eyes widened. "You’re going to force her hand."

"Exactly," I said. "She’s been operating in the shadows, feeding information through Miranda. But if she realizes you’re in the lead team. She can get your schedule. She will have to move. She’ll have to make a mistake. And when she does, we’ll be ready."

I leaned down and kissed her forehead. "She wants to play games? Fine. Let’s play."

Octavia looked at me, and for the first time since I’d told her everything, I saw the warrior in her emerge. The woman who’d survived Dorian. Who’d rebuilt a company. Who’d fought for our love.

"Bring it on, Bella," she whispered, echoing my own thoughts.

And in that moment, sitting in a hospital room with my pregnant wife, knowing that danger was coming but knowing we’d face it together..

We weren’t victims anymore.

We were hunters.

And Bella Washington had made a very serious mistake when she’d decided to come back into our lives.

She was about to find out exactly what happened when you cornered the people that Franklin Flemington loved.

Nothing good.

For her, anyway.