Chapter 17
The sharp cramp started in the parking garage, painful enough to make her grab the nearest concrete pillar for support. Her doctor had warned about stress during the pregnancy, but between the board meeting ambush and Alex’s betrayal, her body had finally reached its limit.
Still, she forced herself to keep moving. Jack’s discovery about Buenos Aires couldn’t wait. But as she rounded the corner toward the elevator, voices stopped her—familiar voices speaking rapid Spanish.
“Siempre fuiste mi escape, Sophia.” Alex’s voice carried a rawness she’d never heard before. “Even when I was drowning in guilt over what happened, you were there.”
Emma pressed herself against the concrete pillar, her heart pounding. Her Spanish was limited, but she’d learned enough key phrases since the Diazes arrived.
Escape.
You were always my escape.
“Podemos tenerlo de nuevo, Alejandro.” Sophia’s voice was soft, intimate. “Everything we planned before Buenos Aires. Before the accident.”
(“We can have it again, Alejandro.”)
Accident. Emma’s mind raced even as another cramp seized her abdomen. What accident?
“It’s too late,” Alex replied, switching back to English. “I am married and Emma is pregnant.”
“A convenient timing, no?” Sophia’s tone carried an edge. “Just when the board was considering the merger with Diaz Enterprises. Just when Luka was about to expose everything.”
“You think she planned it?” Alex’s bitter laugh felt like knives in Emma’s chest. “Emma’s many things, but she’s not that calculating.”
“No? She married you for money, didn’t she?”
“That was different. We both needed something.” A pause. “It was supposed to be simple.”
“Nothing’s been simple since Buenos Aires.” Sophia’s voice dropped lower. “Since that night at La Rosa, when you promised—”
Another cramp hit, stronger this time, and Emma couldn’t suppress her gasp of pain. The world tilted dangerously, and she felt herself sliding down the pillar.
“Emma?” Alex rounded the corner, his face draining of color when he saw her. “Jesus—”
“Don’t touch me,” she gasped, trying to wave him away as he reached for her. The movement sent another wave of dizziness through her.
“Call an ambulance,” she heard Alex bark at Sophia. The world was growing fuzzy at the edges.
“Stay with me, Emma,” Alex’s voice seemed far away. “Please, stay with me.”
The irony of his words followed her into darkness.
She woke to the steady beep of hospital monitors and the sharp smell of antiseptic. A nurse was adjusting her IV, speaking in soothing tones about stress and the importance of rest during early pregnancy.
“Your blood pressure was dangerously high,” the nurse explained. “The doctor wants to keep you overnight for observation. You need to avoid all stress for at least two weeks.”
“I’ll stay—” Alex’s voice came from the doorway. He looked wrecked, his usual corporate polish replaced by genuine fear.
“No.” Emma’s voice was quiet but firm. “Go back to the office. I’m sure Sophia needs help with the transition.”
“Emma, please. What you heard in the garage—”
“What I heard?” She finally looked at him, letting him see her pain. “I heard you call another woman your escape. I heard you resent my pregnancy’s timing. I heard everything I needed to know about where I stand in your life.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then explain it to me, Alex.” She struggled to sit up, ignoring the nurse’s protests. “Explain Buenos Aires. Explain the accident Sophia mentioned. Explain why you let Luka and Elliana destroy everything I built.”
“I can’t.” His hands clenched at his sides. “You don’t understand what’s at stake..”
“No, I don’t. Because my husband—the father of my child—won’t trust me with the truth.”
Her phone buzzed on the bedside table. Jack’s name flashed on the screen.
Alex reached for it. “You need to rest—”
“Don’t.” Emma’s voice could have frozen hell. “Don’t you dare.”
She grabbed the phone, opening Jack’s message. It contained a single photo: Alex and Sophia outside what looked like a burning building in Buenos Aires, his hands covered in blood, her face streaked with tears. The timestamp matched the two weeks he’d gone off the grid.
“What is this?” She turned the phone toward him.
Alex went completely still. “Where did you get that?”
“Does it matter? What happened in that building, Alex? Why are you covered in blood?”
“Emma, stop.” Real panic edged his voice. “Some questions are too dangerous to answer.”
“More dangerous than what happened today? The stress of your lies, your betrayal—it nearly…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, her hand moving protectively to her stomach.
“You think I don’t know that?” Alex raked his hands through his hair. “You think I wanted any of this? The pregnancy’s timing couldn’t have been worse! Just when Luka was closing in, when we were so close to burying everything—”
“Burying what?” Emma’s voice rose. “Bodies? Evidence? What exactly happened in Buenos Aires that’s worth destroying our marriage over?”
“Our marriage?” Alex laughed harshly. “When I was in Buenos Aires, our marriage was just a business arrangement, Emma. Let’s not pretend it was more than that. What happened there is none of your business and has nothing to do with you!”
The words hung between them like poison. Emma felt something inside her break—the last thread of hope that there was something real beneath their carefully constructed facade.
“Get out.” Her voice was deadly calm.
“Emma—”
“Get. Out.” She turned to the doctor hovering nearby. “I want him barred from my room. No visitors except my brother Jack.”
“Mrs. Barrett, in your condition—”
“In my condition, stress is dangerous.” Emma’s hand stayed protectively over her stomach. “And right now, my husband is the biggest source of stress in my life.”
Alex stood in the doorway, conflict clear on his face. For a moment, she thought he might fight, might finally choose to tell her the truth.
Choose love. Choose her.
Instead, he straightened his tie—his habitual gesture of retreat into corporate armor.
“I’ll have Marcus draw up separation papers,” Alex said, his voice barely above a whisper.
His words felt like stones, each one dropping between them with irreversible finality. His gaze flickered to Emma’s swollen belly, but he couldn’t hold her eyes, couldn’t face the raw devastation he knew he’d find there.
“Given the circumstances, I won’t contest your control of the prenatal decisions,” he said.
Emma’s bitter laugh cut through the room like a blade.
“How generous,” she said, her voice trembling. “Go back to your escape, Alex. Go back to Sophia and your Buenos Aires secrets. But remember this moment.” She rose from the bed, her hands gripping the edge of the rail for support. Her tear-filled eyes burned into his, her anger trembling on the edge of heartbreak. “Remember when you chose your past over your future. When you choose lies over your child.”
Alex flinched, his fists clenching at his sides. He wanted to fight, to tell her she was wrong—but she wasn’t, not entirely. The weight of his mistakes crushed him, and for once, he didn’t have the strength to deny it. Without another word, he turned and walked out, the sound of his footsteps fading into the sterile hallway.
As the door closed, Emma finally let herself break. The tears came in violent, choking waves, her sobs mingling with the relentless beeping of the monitor. The pressure in her chest grew unbearable until a nurse appeared, soft words and anti-anxiety medication dulling the edges of her anguish.
As the medication pulled her under, Emma’s resolve hardened. She wouldn’t let them destroy her—not Luka, not Elliana, not Alex. She was done being a pawn in their games. It was time to take back control, one move at a time.
Her hand curved over her stomach, feeling the slight swell that held her future.
“We’ll be okay,” she whispered to her baby. “Mama’s going to fix everything.”
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