Chapter 3 - The Betrayal Inside The Family
Marta stood in the doorway.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The woman who had recognized my morning sickness before anyone else was holding a tray of coffee.
Her hands trembled.
Cassian looked from the tablet to her face.
"Marta."
The tray slipped.
A porcelain cup shattered across the marble floor.
"I'm sorry."
Cassian turned the screen toward her.
"Is this your signature?"
She stared at it.
Then slowly sat down.
Bianca whispered, "Oh God."
I didn't understand.
Marta had spent decades serving this family.
She had practically raised Cassian after his mother died.
He trusted her enough to allow her inside private meetings.
And apparently her name had authorized payments to six doctors.
Cassian's voice was quiet.
"Answer me."
"Yes."
My stomach dropped.
Cassian stepped forward.
"Why?"
Marta looked at him with tears filling her eyes.
"Because your mother asked me to."
Nobody expected that.
Cassian stopped.
"My mother?"
"She made arrangements before she died."
"You just told me you paid doctors to lie about my infertility because my mother asked you."
"No."
Marta wiped her face.
"She asked me to hide something. Renato changed what the money was used for."
Cassian's jaw tightened.
"Start at the beginning."
Marta looked at Bianca.
Bianca nodded reluctantly.
So Marta began.
Cassian's mother, Alessandra Raldi, had discovered years before her husband's death that Renato was quietly moving family assets into companies he controlled.
She collected records.
Bank transfers.
Names.
Judges.
Police officers.
Politicians.
Doctors.
She intended to expose him within the family.
Then she died in what Cassian had been told was a highway accident.
But before her death, Alessandra had created several emergency accounts using Marta as trustee.
Years later, after Cassian became seriously ill at twenty-five, Renato discovered those accounts.
He used one to pay doctors.
"Why would doctors accept that?" I asked.
"Because Renato didn't simply bribe people," Marta said. "He owned their debts. Their secrets. Their families' vulnerabilities."
Cassian stood with his back to us.
"So he convinced them to tell me I could never have children."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Bianca answered.
"Because if you believed you couldn't produce an heir, you would eventually name a successor."
"My cousin."
"Renato's son."
Cassian turned.
"Dominic."
The name landed heavily.
Dominic Raldi was thirty-five.
Charming.
Educated.
Publicly legitimate.
He ran the family's real estate operations and spent half his life pretending not to know where the money came from.
I had met him twice.
Both times he had treated me kindly.
Now I wondered why.
Cassian looked at Marta.
"You knew for eight years."
"I knew the diagnosis was manipulated. I didn't know whether you were actually fertile."
"You could have told me."
"I was trying to keep you alive."
His expression hardened.
"Don't use that excuse."
"Your mother tried to expose Renato. She died. Your father questioned the accident. He became sick within a year."
Bianca looked down.
Cassian went completely still.
"Are you suggesting Renato killed my parents?"
Marta didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Cassian walked out.
I followed him.
"Cassian."
He didn't stop until we reached his private office.
He opened a cabinet and poured whiskey.
Then he stared at it without drinking.
"Eight years."
I closed the door.
"You didn't know."
"My entire adult life."
"You didn't know."
"I built everything around that diagnosis."
He slammed the glass onto the desk.
It cracked but didn't break.
"I told myself it didn't matter."
I stayed quiet.
"I watched friends have children. I watched employees bring babies to Christmas parties. I watched men complain about being woken at three in the morning and thought they had no idea how lucky they were."
His voice broke slightly.
He hated that.
I could see it.
"I decided I didn't want children because wanting something impossible was pathetic."
"Cassian."
"And now you're standing here pregnant."
I touched my stomach.
"We don't know anything yet."
"I know enough."
He looked at me.
"For the first time since that diagnosis, I know they might have stolen something from me that wasn't theirs to take."
I moved closer.
"This baby isn't revenge."
He frowned.
"I know."
"Don't turn him or her into proof that somebody lied."
"I won't."
"Promise."
Cassian looked down at my hand over my abdomen.
Then he said, "I promise."
The following morning, Cassian underwent new testing at a private hospital outside the city.
Only Marco, Dr. Moretti, Cassian, and I knew.
We waited six hours.
When the specialist returned, he seemed confused.
"Mr. Raldi, I reviewed your previous reports."
"And?"
"They're inconsistent with your current condition."
"English."
The doctor swallowed.
"There is no evidence that you're infertile."
I closed my eyes.
Cassian didn't move.
The doctor continued.
"Your fertility markers are within normal range."
"Normal."
"Yes."
"So six physicians lied."
"I can't comment on what they did eight years ago. But based on today's examination, there is no medical reason you couldn't father a child."
Cassian looked at me.
Something passed between us.
Fear.
Relief.
Shock.
Possibility.
Then the doctor added, "Given the circumstances, I'd still recommend prenatal genetic confirmation later if both parents agree."
Cassian's expression hardened.
I knew what he thought.
DNA.
Not because he distrusted me anymore.
Because evidence mattered.
"I agree," I said.
He looked at me.
"You don't have to."
"I want the question dead."
Weeks passed.
My pregnancy progressed normally.
Cassian became almost absurdly protective.
He replaced the chef after discovering the man didn't know which cheeses pregnant women should avoid.
He moved meetings out of the house.
He assigned security to my mother.
He read three pregnancy books and pretended he hadn't.
One night I caught him listening to an audiobook titled Your First Trimester while reviewing a firearms shipment report.
I laughed so hard I nearly cried.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"The contradiction is impressive."
He removed one earbud.
"I like information."
"Of course you do."
Our relationship shifted in small ways.
He brought crackers before I woke.
I stopped sleeping in the guest room.
He touched my stomach cautiously, as if asking permission every time.
And gradually the marriage I'd entered as a financial bargain began becoming something neither of us had negotiated.
That terrified me almost as much as the conspiracy.
Then the threats started.
No dramatic letters.
No bullets through windows.
Something more personal.
A photograph of my mother leaving her nursing facility.
A copy of my father's debt ledger.
A sonogram image that had never left our doctor's office.
Someone had access.
Cassian doubled security again.
He questioned employees.
Nothing.
Then my mother disappeared.
Her nurse called at 3:17 p.m.
"Celia, your mother left with your husband."
My blood froze.
"Cassian is standing next to me."
Silence.
The nurse whispered, "Then I don't know who that man was."
Cassian grabbed the phone.
Within minutes, the mansion became a command center.
Cameras.
Vehicle records.
Phone tracking.
Marco located footage.
A black SUV.
My mother entering willingly.
The driver wearing a baseball cap.
Then one camera captured his face.
Dominic.
Cassian's cousin.
Renato's son.
Cassian swore.
My phone rang.
Dominic.
I answered before anyone could stop me.
"Celia."
"Where is my mother?"
"Safe."
"If you hurt her—"
"I'm trying to keep her alive."
Cassian took the phone.
"Dominic."
"Cousin."
"Bring her back."
"I can't."
"Then you're choosing your father."
Dominic laughed bitterly.
"You still don't understand. I'm the one who's been sending Celia the records."
Everyone went silent.
Cassian looked at me.
Dominic continued.
"My father knows about the pregnancy. He knows the new fertility test. And he knows you found the payments."
"Where are you?"
"I'll tell you if you come alone."
"No."
"Then Celia's mother dies."
My knees weakened.
Cassian's expression turned lethal.
"You said you were protecting her."
"I am. From someone inside your house."
Cassian looked around.
Dominic's next words made all of us freeze.
"Don't trust Marco."
Cassian slowly turned toward the man who had guarded him for eleven years.
May you like
Marco stared back.
Then every light in the mansion went out.
