Chapter 14
Emma sat in her brother Jack’s office, surrounded by stacks of investigative files. As a private security consultant, he had access to information networks that made Barrett Industries’ databases look like children’s books.
“You’re not going to like this,” he said, sliding a folder across his desk. “Elliana Diaz has claimed three pregnancies in the last five years. All of them conveniently miscarried right after major business deals were secured.”
Emma’s stomach churned as she scanned the medical records. “She used the pregnancies for leverage?”
“Classic manipulation tactic.” Jack leaned back in his chair. “But that’s not the worst part. Luka Diaz? He’s connected to some seriously dangerous people in Latin America. We’re talking about cartel-adjacent business dealings, mysterious disappearances of competitors and enough bribed officials to fill a soccer stadium.”
“Alex must know this,” Emma murmured, one hand protectively covering her growing bump. “Is this why he’s so afraid of Luka?”
“Speaking of your husband…” he pulled up another file on his laptop. “His time in Buenos Aires? It’s like looking at a jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing. Large cash transfers, meetings with people who don’t officially exist and a two-week period where he completely disappeared from all surveillance.”
Emma felt her world tilting again. “Disappeared?”
“No credit card activity, no phone records, nothing.” Jack’s expression hardened. “Emma, what exactly do you know about the man you married?”
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed with a reminder.
“The Barrett family dinner,” she groaned. “I can’t skip it – Diane insisted on having the Diazes over to ‘welcome them properly.'”
He grabbed her arm as she stood to leave. “Be careful, Em. These people… they’re playing a much darker game than corporate politics.”
The Barrett family mansion felt more like a battleground than a home that evening. Emma watched Elliana charm her mother-in-law Diane with practiced ease, while Luka and Alex’s father Richard discussed business opportunities in measured tones.
“Emma, querida!” Elliana’s voice carried across the formal dining room. “I was just telling Diane about my doctor’s appointment today. Wasn’t it wonderful that we got the same obstetrician, Dr. Smith?”
Emma nearly dropped her water glass. She hadn’t told anyone except Alex about her choice of doctor.
“Such a blessing, two Barrett babies due so close together,” Diane beamed, oblivious to the undercurrents. “Though Emma, dear, you really should take more precautions in your condition. Those late meetings can’t be good for the baby.”
Emma saw Alex’s jaw clench. He knew every one of those “late meetings” had been legitimate business, yet he remained silent as his wife’s reputation was slowly poisoned.
“Speaking of precautions,” Elliana continued sweetly, “Alex was always so careful during his time in Buenos Aires, wasn’t he, mi amor?” She directed this to Luka, who smiled like a well-fed cat.
“Usually careful,” Luka agreed. “Though there was that one night at La Rosa… how many bottles of Malbec was it, Alex?”
The color drained from Alex’s face. Emma watched him struggle to maintain composure, noting how his hand shook slightly as he reached for his wine.
“La Rosa?” Emma’s interest was piqued. “I don’t remember that in any expense reports.”
“Oh, some things in Buenos Aires were kept… off the books,” Elliana said with deliberate casualness. “Isn’t that right, Alex?”
“I don’t recall,” Alex’s voice was tight.
“No?” Elliana’s smile sharpened. “The pretty bartender might refresh your memory. What was her name again, Luka?”
“Enough.” Emma’s voice cut through the tension. “We’re here to have dinner, not play mind games.”
“Mind games?” Elliana pressed a hand to her chest in mock offense. “I’m simply reminiscing about dear Alex’s time in Argentina. So many interesting stories…”
“Fascinating country, Argentina,” Luka interjected smoothly. “Though dangerous for those who don’t understand its… complexities.” He switched to Spanish, his words flowing like silk-wrapped steel.
“Muchas cosas malas pueden pasar a las personas que hacen las preguntas equivocadas. Especialmente a las mujeres embarazadas.”
(“A lot of bad things can happen to people who ask the wrong questions. Especially to pregnant women.”)
Emma didn’t need to understand Spanish to recognize a threat. The way Alex’s knuckles whitened around his fork told her everything.
“What did he say?” she demanded.
“He’s merely commenting on the risks of international business,” Alex replied mechanically.
“Don’t lie to me,” Emma stood abruptly. “Not about this. Not now.”
The table fell silent. Even Diane seemed to finally sense the dangerous currents running beneath the social niceties.
“Emma, perhaps you should sit,” Alex suggested quietly. “In your condition—”
“My condition?” Emma laughed harshly. “You mean the pregnancy you won’t defend? Just like you won’t defend me against the rumors, the surveillance, the systematic destruction of everything I’ve built?”
“Emma—” Alex started, but she cut him off.
“No. I’m done.” She turned to face Luka and Elliana. “Whatever happened in Buenos Aires, whatever hold you have over my husband – you’ve made your point. But if you think I’m going to sit here and pretend this is a normal family dinner while you threaten me, you’re severely underestimating me.”
Luka’s smile never wavered. “Nadie te está amenazando, querida. Yet.”
(“No one is threatening you, my dear. Yet.”)
Emma grabbed her purse, her hands shaking with rage and fear.
“Alex, when you decide to remember who you really are – who we really are – you know where to find me.”
She walked out of the Barrett mansion with her head high, but her mind was racing. Everything she thought she knew about Alex was unraveling. The man she’d married – first for convenience, then growing to care for him – was becoming a stranger before her eyes.
Her phone buzzed as she reached her car. A text from Marcus:
“Found something about Buenos Aires. Pretty big. Come to my office first thing tomorrow.”
Emma started the engine, her brother’s earlier words echoing in her mind:
What exactly do you know about the man you married?
With each passing day, she was becoming less and less sure of the answer.
