Chapter 11
Emma stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of their penthouse, one hand resting protectively over her growing belly. The city lights twinkled below, a stark contrast to the turmoil of the past few weeks. The doctors had assured her that despite Victoria’s attempt on her life, both she and the baby were doing well, but the emotional scars weren’t healing quite as easily as the physical ones.
Behind her, she heard Alex’s familiar footsteps. He’d been different since Victoria’s arrest – more present, more attentive. Sometimes she caught him watching her with an intensity that made her breath catch, as if he was seeing her for the first time.
“You should be resting,” he said softly, coming to stand beside her. His hand hovered near her lower back, uncertain, before settling gently against her spine.
Emma tensed slightly at his touch, then forced herself to relax. They’d agreed to start over, but old habits died hard. “I’ve spent enough time in bed these past weeks,” she replied, offering him a small smile. “The doctor said moderate activity is good for both me and the baby.”
Alex’s face darkened momentarily at the implicit reminder of why she’d been bedridden. “Emma, about what happened—”
“Don’t.” She turned to face him fully. “We’ve been over this. Victoria fooled a lot of people, not just you.”
“But I should have seen it. Should have protected you both.” His hand moved to her belly, and this time the touch felt natural, wanted. “When I think about what could have happened…”
Emma covered his hand with hers. “But it didn’t. We’re here, we’re safe, and Victoria can’t hurt us anymore.” She paused, gathering her courage. “The question is, where do we go from here?”
Alex’s other hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing her cheekbone with a tenderness that made her heart ache.
“I know I have no right to ask for your trust after everything that’s happened. But I want to earn it back. Not because of the company, or the inheritance, or even the baby. Because somewhere along the way, between all the board meetings and pretense, I fell in love with my wife.”
Emma’s breath caught. In two years of marriage, they’d never spoken of love. “Alex—”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted quickly. “I know it’s too soon. I know I hurt you by even considering going back to Victoria. But I want you to know that this isn’t about obligation anymore. This is about us – you, me, and our child.”
Tears pricked at Emma’s eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones.
“I can’t just forget everything that happened.”
“I’m not asking you to.” Alex’s voice was gentle but firm. “I’m asking for a chance to show you who I really am, without all the complications and pretense. To be the husband you deserve.”
She stared at Alex, his words lingering in the air between them like a fragile promise. Her instinct was to push back, to question his sincerity after everything they’d endured, but the vulnerability in his eyes gave her pause. She nodded cautiously, not ready to forgive, but willing to see if his actions could match his words.
The next morning, as the sunlight streamed into the penthouse kitchen, Emma stirred her tea absently, her nausea finally giving her some reprieve. That fragile truce felt miles away when Alex set his coffee down and said, almost too casually, “We need to talk.”
Emma’s morning sickness had finally begun to subside when Alex dropped the news over breakfast.
“Luka Diaz will be joining us today,” he said, his voice carrying an undercurrent of tension she’d rarely heard before. “The board approved his appointment last night.”
She paused, her spoon halfway to her mouth.
“Diaz? From Diaz Enterprises?” The name carried weight in international business circles, particularly in Latin America where the Diaz family controlled everything from shipping ports to tech startups.
“He’s making a significant investment in Barrett Industries.” Alex’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “It’s a good move for our expansion into South American markets.”
Emma studied her husband’s face, noting the slight strain around his eyes, the way his shoulders had tensed. After two years of marriage—even one of convenience—she’d learned to read these subtle signs.
“You don’t seem thrilled about it.”
“It’s complicated.” Alex finally met her gaze, then glanced quickly at her still-flat stomach. “Just… be careful around him. Luka Diaz is brilliant, but he’s dangerous in ways that aren’t immediately obvious.”
Before Emma could press further, Alex was already standing, adjusting his tie with practiced precision.
“The board meets at nine. We can’t be late.”
* * *
The Barrett Industries boardroom always reminded Emma of a theater stage, with its huge dramatic windows overlooking Manhattan and the massive mahogany table that dominated the space. Today, it felt particularly theatrical as board members filed in, an undercurrent of whispered conversations filling the air.
She noticed the shift in energy immediately when Luka Diaz entered. He moved with the fluid grace of a jungle cat, all coiled power beneath an elegant exterior. His charcoal suit was clearly bespoke, and his smile carried the kind of confidence that came from generations of wealth and influence.
“Mrs. Barrett.” His accent wrapped around her name like silk hiding steel. “What a pleasure to finally meet you.” He took her hand, his grip firm but not aggressive. “Your work with the Asian expansion has been… impressive.”
Emma forced herself to maintain eye contact, fighting the instinct to pull her hand away. His dark eyes seemed to see right through her carefully constructed professional facade. “Welcome to Barrett Industries, Mr. Diaz. Your reputation precedes you.”
“Please, call me Luka.” His smile widened fractionally. “After all, we’re going to be working very closely together.”
She felt Alex stiffen beside her, though his face remained carefully neutral. The dynamic between the two men fascinated her—Alex, usually so dominant and assured, seemed almost deferential to Diaz.
The board meeting proceeded with the usual updates and projections, but Emma found herself distracted by Diaz’s presence. He spoke little, but when he did, his suggestions carried weight that seemed disproportionate to his new position. More disturbing was how quickly Alex agreed with each one, offering only token resistance to ideas that normally would have sparked heated debate.
After the meeting, Emma retreated to her office, her mind racing. Something about Diaz set off every warning bell she possessed. She pulled up his company profile, diving deep into news archives and financial reports. Diaz Enterprises had grown exponentially over the past decade, absorbing smaller companies across South America with remarkable efficiency. But there were gaps in the narrative, places where the story didn’t quite add up.
A knock at her door interrupted her research. “Come in,” she called, quickly minimizing her browser.
“Working hard?” Luka’s voice carried a hint of amusement as he entered without waiting for further invitation. He moved to the window, looking out over the city with apparent appreciation. “New York is beautiful, but it lacks the passion of Buenos Aires.” He turned to face her. “Don’t you agree, Emma? Though perhaps you’ve never visited Argentina?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure,” she replied carefully, noting how he’d switched to her first name without permission.
“But your husband knows it well.” Luka’s smile never wavered. “Alex spent quite a bit of time there a few years ago. Fascinating country… so many secrets buried in its soil.”
Emma maintained her professional mask, though her heart rate accelerated. Alex had never mentioned spending time in Argentina.
“International experience is valuable in our line of work.”
“Indeed.” Luka moved closer to her desk, picking up a framed photo of her and Alex at a company event. “You make a striking couple. The perfect corporate marriage, one might say.” His emphasis on the word ‘corporate’ was subtle but unmistakable.
She felt the blood drain from her face but forced herself to hold his gaze.
“My marriage is hardly relevant to business discussions, Mr. Diaz.”
“On the contrary, my dear.” He set the photo down with deliberate care. “Everything is relevant. For instance, the contract drawn up two years ago, specifying the exact terms of your arrangement with Alex. The money transferred to cover your grandmother’s medical expenses. The prenuptial agreement that ensures your silence about certain… delicate matters.”
Emma’s hands clenched beneath her desk, her nails digging into her palms. “I don’t know what you’re implying—”
“Please,” Luka cut her off smoothly, “let’s not insult each other with denials. I know everything about your arrangement with Alex. Just as I know about the incident in Buenos Aires that he’s so desperate to keep buried.” He moved toward the door, then paused. “Oh, and Emma? Congratulations on the pregnancy. I do hope nothing… unfortunate happens. First pregnancies can be so delicate, especially in high-stress environments.”
The threat in his words was clear, though his tone remained perfectly pleasant. He left before she could respond, closing the door behind him with a soft click that seemed to echo in the sudden silence of her office.
Emma sat frozen, her mind racing. The pregnancy wasn’t fully public knowledge yet. How did he know? And what exactly had happened in Buenos Aires that gave him such power over Alex?
