Chapter 6 - The Husband Who Had to Earn His Way BackAleandro did not tell Emily that her dead mother apparently owned the company holding three million dollars of Bellini money.
Not immediately.
For once, he understood that information could become another weapon when delivered without care.
Instead, he waited outside her hospital room until Dr. Lane emerged.
“Mr. Bellini?”
He stood.
“How is she?”
“The contractions have settled for now. We're continuing observation.”
“And our daughter?”
“Her monitoring is reassuring.”
Aleandro exhaled.
“Thank you.”
Dr. Lane studied him.
“Your wife has requested limited visitors.”
“I know.”
“Then respect that.”
“I will.”
She nodded and walked away.
An hour later, Emily sent a message.
You can come in for five minutes.
Aleandro entered without his jacket.
Emily lay against the pillows, pale and exhausted.
He stopped near the doorway.
“Hi.”
She looked at him.
“Hello.”
The distance between those two ordinary words felt enormous.
Aleandro approached the chair beside her bed.
“May I sit?”
She nodded.
He sat.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Then Aleandro placed a folder on the small table.
“The documents Isabella brought were altered.”
Emily's eyes filled.
“I told you.”
“I know.”
“No, Aleandro. You didn't know. You decided I was guilty before you even asked me.”
He lowered his head.
“You're right.”
She looked away.
“I needed you to believe me.”
“I should have.”
“You didn't.”
“No.”
Her tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
Aleandro wanted to reach for her hand.
He didn't.
“I was wrong,” he said. “Not because the records were fake. I was wrong because I treated you like someone I needed to control instead of someone I promised to trust.”
Emily studied him.
He continued.
“I can't ask you to forgive me. I don't deserve that.”
“Then what do you want?”
“To make sure you're safe. And to tell you the truth, even if you never come home.”
Something in her expression shifted.
Not forgiveness.
But surprise.
“Then tell me what you found.”
Aleandro hesitated.
“Northbridge Medical Investments received the missing money.”
Emily frowned.
“Who owns it?”
“The records name Laura Bennett.”
She went still.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“That can't be right.”
“I know.”
Emily pressed her fingers against the blanket.
“Margaret showed me a photograph.”
“She showed me too.”
“Do you think she's alive?”
Aleandro answered carefully.
“I think someone wants us to believe she is. We need evidence before deciding anything.”
Emily looked toward the window.
“What if she really is?”
He couldn't answer.
Then she whispered, “What if she was alive all these years and never came for me?”
Aleandro felt the pain beneath that question.
He had spent his childhood fearing his father.
Emily had spent hers mourning a mother who might never have died.
“I'll help you find out,” he said.
Emily shook her head.
“I don't want your men threatening people.”
“They won't.”
“I don't want anyone hurt.”
“Understood.”
“And I don't want you making decisions for me.”
He met her eyes.
“I won't.”
She studied him for a long moment.
Then nodded.
“Okay.”
Before he left, she said his name.
“Aleandro.”
He turned.
“If you ever accuse me of loving your money again, there won't be another conversation.”
His throat tightened.
“I understand.”
He walked out carrying the weight of every word.
That evening, Nathan uncovered the first concrete connection between Isabella and Northbridge.
Three years earlier, Isabella had approved a private consulting agreement with a man named Victor Sloane.
Sloane was a former police investigator who had resigned after allegations of evidence tampering.
His photograph matched the man who had appeared at Hannah's apartment wearing the face of Daniel Mercer.
The dead detective.
Except he wasn't Daniel Mercer.
He had undergone extensive reconstructive surgery following a car accident.
And someone had deliberately styled him to resemble the deceased investigator.
Aleandro stared at the photograph.
“Why would Isabella hire him?”
Nathan looked uncomfortable.
“There's more.”
He opened a second document.
A payment record.
Five hundred thousand dollars.
Authorized by Isabella.
Dated the week before Aleandro met Emily for the first time.
Aleandro's expression hardened.
“What was the payment for?”
Nathan swallowed.
“The invoice description says: Bennett surveillance and relationship placement.”
Aleandro felt a chill travel down his spine.
Relationship placement.
He remembered meeting Emily at a charity fundraiser.
She had been standing beside a display of children's paintings, arguing with a donor who wanted to reduce funding for an after-school program.
Aleandro had fallen in love with her stubbornness.
Her honesty.
Her refusal to be impressed by his wealth.
He had believed their meeting was chance.
Now he stared at the payment record and wondered whether someone had arranged the entire thing.
His phone rang.
An unknown number.
He answered.
A woman's voice spoke.
“Your sister didn't bring Emily into your life by accident.”
Aleandro went cold.
“Who is this?”
The woman paused.
May you like
Then said something that made his heart nearly stop.
“I'm Laura Bennett.”
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