Chapter 12
The annual Barrett Foundation Charity Gala transformed the Metropolitan Museum’s Temple of Dendur into a glittering landscape of wealth and power. Emma stood at the edge of the crowd, one hand resting protectively over her still-concealed pregnancy while the other clutched a glass of sparkling water disguised as champagne. Three weeks had passed since Luka Diaz’s arrival, and she’d spent every moment feeling like a chess piece being maneuvered by an unseen hand.
“Darling, you look positively peaked.” The voice carried the musical lilt of a Spanish accent softened by years of international education. “Are you not feeling well?”
Emma turned to face Elliana Diaz and felt her usual confidence waver. Luka’s wife made Victoria look like an amateur in the art of sophisticated warfare. The former Miss Universe hadn’t lost any of her beauty since her crowning decade ago; if anything, marriage to Luka and her subsequent rise in the business world had only enhanced her allure. She wore a blood-red Versace gown that made Emma’s classic black Chanel feel suddenly matronly.
“I’m fine, thank you, Mrs. Diaz.” Emma maintained her professional smile. “The gala is a tremendous success. We’ve already exceeded last year’s fundraising goals.”
“Elliana, please.” Her smile was radiant, designed for magazine covers. “We’re all family here at Barrett Industries, aren’t we? Speaking of family…” Her gaze dropped meaningfully to Emma’s midsection. “That water you’re drinking isn’t fooling anyone, querida.”
Emma’s grip tightened on her glass. Like her husband, Elliana seemed to know things she shouldn’t.
“The foundation’s work in education—”
“Oh, let’s not bore ourselves with charity talk.” Elliana linked her arm through Emma’s, steering her toward a cluster of board members and their wives. “I’ve been dying to introduce you properly to everyone. After all, you’ve been spending so much time with some of them lately.”
Warning bells rang in Emma’s head, but extracting herself would cause more of a scene than following Elliana’s lead. The group parted to admit them to their circle, their curious gazes taking in the unlikely pair.
“Emma, darling,” Elliana’s voice carried just far enough to reach interested ears nearby, “you simply must tell everyone about your meeting with Richard last week at the Four Seasons. The private dining room there is so discreet, isn’t it?”
Emma felt her blood run cold. She had met Richard Lee, one of the senior board members, to discuss the Asian market expansion—but she’d told no one about the location. Even Alex thought they’d met at the office.
“It was a business lunch,” Emma said firmly. “We were discussing the Singapore projections.”
“Of course you were, querida.” Elliana’s laugh tinkled like breaking glass. “Just like your early morning coffee with James at that charming little place in Greenwich Village. The one with the back entrance?” She turned to the group. “Our Emma is so dedicated to her board members. She meets them at such interesting places, at such interesting hours.”
The implications hung in the air like poison. Emma saw the slight widening of eyes, the quickly hidden smirks. Her business meetings—all legitimate, all professional—were being twisted into something sordid.
“Actually,” a deep voice cut in, “I can vouch for the Singapore numbers they discussed. Quite impressive projections.”
Thomas Hamilton, CEO of Hamilton Corp and Barrett Industries’ biggest competitor, stepped smoothly into the circle. His intervention should have helped, but Emma saw Elliana’s smile sharpen with satisfaction, as if his appearance was yet another piece falling into place.
“Thomas Hamilton, coming to the rescue.” Elliana raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “How gallant. Though I suppose you would know all about Emma’s private meetings, wouldn’t you? That late-night strategy session in your office last month must have been quite… productive.”
Emma’s mind raced. She had met with Thomas, but only in a group setting with other industry leaders. The implication that they’d met alone, at night, was completely fabricated—but how did Elliana even know about the meeting at all?
She scanned the crowd desperately for Alex, finally spotting him deep in conversation with Luka near the temple’s entrance. Even from this distance, she could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he kept glancing in her direction but making no move to intervene.
“I don’t know what you’re implying, Elliana,” Emma kept her voice steady, “but all my meetings are documented in the corporate calendar.”
“Oh, I’m not implying anything.” Elliana’s smile was pure venom wrapped in honey. “I’m simply making conversation about things I’ve… observed. Like your fascinating habit of taking calls in the east stairwell—so much privacy there, isn’t there? Or those lovely lingerie purchases at La Perla last month. The red set was particularly daring. Not your usual conservative style at all.”
The blood drained from Emma’s face. The stairwell was her private retreat, a place she went to collect her thoughts or make personal calls. And the La Perla shopping trip had been a private indulgence, a small act of rebellion against her own insecurities. No one could have known about either unless…
“You’ve been watching me.” The realization struck her like a physical blow. “You’ve had me under surveillance.”
“Now, Emma, don’t be paranoid.” Elliana patted her arm condescendingly. “I simply have an eye for detail. Like that lunch meeting you had with Marcus Wong yesterday—the one where you spent forty-five minutes crying in the restaurant bathroom afterward. Pregnancy hormones can be so troublesome, can’t they?”
Emma felt the room spin slightly. Yesterday’s breakdown had come after Marc confirmed her worst fears about Alex’s time in Buenos Aires. She’d thought she’d hidden it perfectly, returning to the office with fresh makeup and a practiced smile.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Emma pulled away from Elliana’s grasp, no longer caring about social niceties. She headed for Alex, fury building with each step. He was her husband, whatever their arrangement. He should be defending her, not standing silent while she was humiliated.
But before she could reach him, Luka smoothly intercepted her path.
“Emma, mi querida, leaving so soon? The night is young and Elliana so enjoys your company.”
“Not now.” Emma’s voice shook with barely contained rage.
She caught Alex’s gaze across the floor — saw the agony in his eyes, the fear when he glanced at Luka, the shame when he looked away first. Then he came to her through the hall.
“Alex,” Emma whispered first, “why didn’t you—”
“I couldn’t.” His voice was raw. “Luka controls too much. Our South American operations, the Asian expansion… one word from him and it all collapses.”
“And that’s worth letting his wife destroy my reputation?”
The pain in his eyes was answering well enough. Emma pulled away from him, suddenly desperate for air.
“Emma, please—”
“Don’t.” She straightened her spine, gathering the shreds of her dignity. “I get it now. Luka doesn’t just own your soul. He owns your spine too.”
She walked away, head high despite the stares and whispers. Behind her, she heard Luka’s deep laugh, saw Elliana’s satisfied smile in the mirrors lining the hall.
