Not really, but I wouldn't put it past her.
"[Buttfuck], wait!" Raige calls as she hits the second-floor hall. Olivia materializes in the air before her to snarl, "Why don't we go after [Buttfuck] together?" before plunging into Raige's torso. Raige glows white and shudders into a blurry, triple-exposure version of herself for a moment. Once she's reformed, Rolivia takes a moment to smirk before sauntering in slow-motion out into the commercial break. DUN!
Manor kitchen. Aftermath. Piper's at the center island, busily mixing a potion while referring to instructions from the Book of Shadows. Phoebe jiggles in to snoop. "'Banishing A Ghost'"? she reads from the Book's entry. "I thought we weren't gonna try and help [Raige] anymore." "We're not," Piper contends. "We're just giving her an option." Phoebe's Fucking Backup Band kicks in, so she squints her eyes and announces, "You're worried." "So?" Piper evenly replies. "So, you can actually worry, and you're really just worried, whereas if I worry, people think I'm psychically intruding." If the shoe fits, beeyotch. Piper pretty much says the same thing, to wit: "Precisely." Heh. Piper funnels a bit of the mixture into a vial, and the two ladies exit.
Castle Montanague. Slampiece Buttfuck slumps morosely in a chair in his late father's study. Rolivia approaches through the hallway in slow-motion, flashes into plain old Olivia for five frames, and enters the room. If you frame through that bit, you'll discover that Olivia's looking in entirely the wrong direction. Just pointing that out. "Penny for your thoughts," Rolivia purrs to the distraught Buttfuck, who shoots a pained look in her direction. "What?" Rolivia shrugs. Slampiece Buttfuck admits that it was one of his dead fiancée's pet phrases. "Oh," Rolivia murmurs, slinking further into the room. "I should be more careful." Rolivia maintains that the ghost Buttfuck encountered in the Manor attic was right -- the feud can't be stopped, and as justice must be served, revenge is the way to go. "And the last man standing wins," she asserts. During all this, Buttfuck's crossed to an armoire, where he avoids looking her gaze by absently riffling through a drawer. "Why are you doing this?" Buttfuck finally asks, softly. Rolivia advances on him quietly. "Because it's the right thing to do," she whispers, touching his shoulder and turning him to face her. "Together, we can't lose," she smiles. The shot cuts to a low angle from across the room. Silhouetted against the moonlight and framed by the shattered French doors, Rolivia and Buttfuck lean in towards each other for a kiss as the night breeze flutters the curtains around them.