Chapter 6

The roses Carlos had tossed carelessly on my bed were making it hard to breathe with their strong sweet smell. Or maybe it was him being there, the way he acted like a loving husband now felt like ropes around my neck.

"The doctors said you had a bad head injury," Carlos told everyone in the room, speaking loud enough for the nurse checking my IV to hear. "And bleeding inside your body. My love, I was so scared when they called."

His fingers touched mine gently, but it made my skin feel creepy. Every touch felt dirty now that I knew where those hands had been, what they had done. I kept my face calm, thankful that years of dealing with his sneaky mind games had taught me how to hide my feelings.

"Carlos," I said quietly, "you didn't need to leave your important meeting."

His eyes flashed, a tiny look of annoyance quickly hidden by fake worry. We both knew there was no meeting. I wondered if the sheets on Daniela's bed still showed where he had been lying.

"Nothing is more important than you," he said, voice thick with fake feeling. He turned to the nurse. "When can I take my wife home? She needs proper care."

The nurse—Marta, according to her name tag, looked at me, not Carlos. I liked her for that. "Dr. Reyes will talk about that during afternoon visits. Mrs. Reyes needs watching for at least another day."

Carlos's jaw got tight for a moment before he smiled. "Of course. Whatever is best for my Emily."

My Emily. Those words hung in the air like poison gas.

Daniela pretended to wipe away tears with a clean handkerchief. "I was so worried when Carlos told me," she whimpered. "I canceled all my meetings for the week."

"The week?" I asked.

"Of course." She reached for my hand, and I had to try very hard not to pull away. "I'm staying at your side to help you get better. Carlos will need to go back to work, but I'll be there day and night."

The thought of her in my home, sleeping in my room, using my kitchen, going through my things, made me feel sick. I swallowed hard and forced a grateful smile.

"That's... thoughtful."

The door opened, saving me from more acting. Alejandro stepped in, his tall body outlined by the hall light. Despite everything, my heart lifted seeing him. He carried a small potted orchid, its pretty purple flowers so different from Carlos's showy roses.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said, his deep voice filling the room. "I left my jacket."

Carlos's arm tightened around my shoulders like he owned me. "Mr. Vega, we're having a private moment with my wife."

Alejandro looked at Carlos's arm and then at my face. Something in my eyes must have shown my distress, because his body changed slightly—standing taller, shoulders getting wider.

"Of course," he replied smoothly. "I just need my jacket." He picked up a Tom Ford dark blazer from the chair. "And to give Emily this." He placed the orchid on the table beside my bed. "The gift shop didn't have much choice, but orchids last longer than cut flowers."

The simple statement had a hidden meaning that everyone in the room understood. Carlos's roses would die soon; the orchid would live with proper care.

"I don't think you've been properly introduced," I said, my voice stronger than I expected. "Carlos, Daniela, this is Alejandro Vega, the architect I've chosen for the children's hospital project."

Carlos's eyebrows went up slightly at the word "chosen," reminding him that I had power in my foundation. He held out his hand with practiced charm. "Carlos Reyes. Emily's husband and CEO of Reyes Holdings."

Alejandro's handshake was firm but quick. "Your wife has great taste in architecture. She found problems in my first designs that would have cost millions to fix later."

Pride warmed me at his words, real recognition of my skills, something rare in my world where people politely make me feel small.

Daniela pushed herself between them, her hand staying on Alejandro's arm too long. "Daniela Morales. I'm practically family—Carlos's assistant and sister."

Her bold claim almost made me laugh. I caught Alejandro's eye, and something passed between us—a shared understanding that felt like armor around my hurt heart.

"How lucky for Emily to have such... devoted people in her life," he said, his voice neutral but his eyes knowing.

Carlos moved impatiently. "If you've found your jacket, we won't keep you any longer."

"Actually," I cut in, "could you ask Marta if I can have more pain medicine? My head really hurts."

Alejandro nodded, understanding I needed a short break. As he left to find the nurse, Daniela moved to my bedside, reaching for my Fendi Peekaboo purse.

"Let me organize your things, dear," she said sweetly. "You'll want your phone and toiletries where you can reach them."

Before I could stop her, she was emptying my bag onto the bed, my wallet, makeup compact, lipstick, and finally, Alejandro's sketchbook, which had somehow ended up with my things.

"What's this?" She opened it, her eyes getting wide with fake surprise. "These are beautiful designs. And look, Carlos—" her voice dropped to a suggestive purr, "—there's a drawing of Emily here."

She turned the book to show a quick, elegant sketch of my face, dated the night before. I didn't know Alejandro had drawn me while I slept.

Carlos grabbed the sketchbook, his knuckles turning white as he flipped through the pages. "You let him draw you? While you were here? Vulnerable?"

The old me would have stammered explanations, desperate to calm his jealousy. But pain had indeed brought clarity. I met his eyes steadily.

"I was unconscious most of the night, Carlos. Alejandro kept watch while you were... busy elsewhere."

A dangerous quiet fell. Carlos closed the sketchbook very carefully, his face hardening into a look I knew from our worst fights.

"You've been through a trauma," he said finally, his voice cold. "You're not thinking clearly."

Alejandro came back with Marta, who quickly gave me medicine through my IV. "This should help with the pain," she said kindly. "But it might make you sleepy."

"Thank you," I said quietly, grateful for both the medicine and the interruption.

"I should let you rest," Alejandro said, taking his sketchbook from where Carlos had put it on the window ledge. "I have a meeting with the hospital board this afternoon, but I'll stop by tomorrow with those changed plans we talked about."

"Perfect." I smiled truly for the first time since waking up. "I'd like to look at them before the foundation's vote next week."

Carlos's eyes narrowed at this proof of plans made without his knowledge or permission. But he said nothing, his mask firmly in place in front of the nurse.

As Alejandro reached the door, he turned back. "Emily, remember what I said about clarity. Pain shows us what matters."

With that mysterious reminder, he was gone, leaving me alone with the two people who had betrayed me most completely.

Daniela went back to her fake concern, smoothing my sheets when they didn't need it. "What a strange man," she said. "So... intense. Is he married?"

The calculated question showed her true nature, always looking for advantage, information, chances to manipulate. I remembered how she had first worked her way into my life, all flattery and fake friendship, while eyeing Carlos from the start.

"Widowed," I replied simply.

"How sad," she cooed, but her eyes gleamed with hungry interest.

Carlos paced at the foot of my bed, tension coming off him in waves. "I don't want him involved with your foundation project anymore," he declared suddenly.

"That's not your decision." The words came out with quiet certainty.

Both Carlos and Daniela stared at me, not used to me saying no directly.

"What did you say?" Carlos's voice dropped dangerously.

"The Reyes Children's Foundation is my project. My board. My decision." I held his gaze steadily, despite the pounding in my head. "Alejandro Vega stays."

Something ugly flashed across his face, anger quickly covered by calculation. He exchanged a look with Daniela, a silent message that left me out completely.

"You're upset," he said finally, his tone trying to sound understanding. "And on medication. We'll talk about this when you're thinking more clearly."

Once, his dismissal would have crushed me. Now it just confirmed what I already knew, that my opinions never mattered, that my skills were always questioned, that my voice had been slowly silenced throughout our marriage.

"I'd like to rest now," I said, closing my eyes. "The medicine is making me sleepy."

"Of course, my love." Carlos pressed a kiss to my forehead that felt like it was burning me. "Daniela and I will go handle the insurance paperwork and come back later."

I kept my eyes closed until the door clicked shut behind them, then quickly reached for my phone. My hands shook as I typed a message to Sofia, the foundation's money manager and the only person I completely trusted.

It's time. Start looking into Carlos's accounts.

I paused only briefly before adding: And find out everything you can about Alejandro Vega.

As I hit send, a weight lifted from my chest. I'd spent years being Carlos's perfect, decorative wife, too afraid of losing him to question his cruelty, his control, his cheating. The accident had broken that false feeling of safety, forcing me to see the truth I'd been avoiding.

I wasn't afraid of losing Carlos anymore. I was afraid of staying trapped in the beautiful cage he'd built around me.

The door opened again, and I quickly put my phone aside. But instead of Carlos or Daniela, it was Marta.

"Your husband and his... sister left the floor," she said, checking my vital signs. "They were arguing in the elevator. Thought you might want to know."

I smiled faintly. "Thank you, Marta."

She fixed my pillows with gentle skill. "The tall gentleman who was here earlier, he wouldn't leave your side all night. Held your hand through the worst parts. Refused to let anyone move him." She met my eyes with meaning. "A man like that... well, they're rare."

With that simple observation, she left me alone with my thoughts and the soft smell of the orchid beside me. Carlos's roses lay forgotten at the foot of the bed, their red petals already starting to fall.

I touched the necklace at my throat—a Van Cleef Alhambra diamond Carlos had given me on our first anniversary. It had always felt like a collar. Now I understood it was. But collars could be taken off, cages escaped, chains broken. My phone buzzed with Sofia's reply: Already on it. Found something you need to see.

I took a deep breath, the pain medicine softening the edges of my determination without weakening it. Carlos and Daniela thought they were playing a master game of deception.

They had no idea I was about to change all the rules.