PART 3: ADRIAN ROMANO FELL TO HIS KNEES WHEN HE DISCOVERED WHAT HIS WIFE HAD SUFFERED ALONE… BUT BIANCA’S SECRET WAS EVEN WORSE THAN HE IMAGINED 💔

“Elena, don’t open that door.”

Bianca’s voice came from the hallway, sharp with panic.

For several seconds, I couldn’t move.

She was standing outside my apartment with my husband—the man who had asked me for a divorce less than forty-eight hours ago.

And somehow, she was afraid of what I might learn.

On the other side of the door, Adrian’s voice turned dangerously cold.

“Bianca, go home.”

“Adrian, you promised me she wouldn’t find out!”

“GO HOME.”

The hallway fell silent.

I should have felt satisfied hearing him speak to Bianca that way.

Instead, I felt exhausted.

Eight years of marriage had taught me that Adrian could silence almost anyone.

Except the woman he had chosen over me.

I unlocked the door.

Adrian stood directly in front of me, his dark coat damp from the rain. His face was pale, his jaw clenched, and his eyes immediately dropped to my stomach.

For the first time since I’d known him, the notorious Adrian Romano looked like a man who had no idea what to do next.

Behind him, Bianca stood near the elevator, clutching her handbag.

Her expression changed when she saw me.

“Elena,” Adrian whispered.

I looked straight at him.

“Answer my question. Where were you three weeks ago?”

He opened his mouth, but Bianca interrupted.

“He was with me.”

The words landed between us like a slap.

Adrian turned toward her.

“Not another word.”

But Bianca had already made her mistake.

She stepped forward, her eyes shining with something between anger and desperation.

“You want the truth, Elena? Fine. He was with me that night because I needed him. I told him I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, and he chose to stay.”

I stared at Adrian.

He didn’t deny it.

Three weeks earlier, I’d sat alone in a hospital emergency room, frightened by unexpected pain and terrified that something might be wrong with my pregnancy.

I’d called my husband four times.

I’d sent him a message telling him I needed him.

He hadn’t answered.

A nurse had eventually sat beside me while I waited for the doctor.

The baby was all right.

But I remembered holding that tiny ultrasound picture afterward, crying quietly because the one person I wanted to share my relief with hadn’t even bothered to call back.

Now I understood why.

I looked at Adrian.

“Did you read my messages?”

His silence answered me.

“Did you know I was at the hospital?”

His eyes finally met mine.

“Yes.”

Something inside me went terribly still.

“You knew?”

“Elena, I—”

“And you stayed with her?”

He took a step toward me.

“I thought you were dealing with a routine appointment. Bianca was having a difficult night, and I didn’t understand—”

“You didn’t understand because you never asked!”

My voice cracked.

For eight years, I’d made excuses for this man.

I’d explained his absences, defended his coldness, and convinced myself that his inability to express love didn’t mean he felt none.

But standing there, looking at the father of my unborn child, I finally understood something.

A person didn’t have to be cruel every day to leave you feeling completely alone.

Adrian looked as if I’d struck him.

“Elena, please let me explain.”

I shook my head.

“No. You had eight years to explain yourself. I’m finished listening.”

I began closing the door.

His hand caught the edge—not forcefully, but desperately.

“Please. Just tell me what I have to do.”

I looked at him through the narrowing gap.

“Start by understanding that you don’t get to become a father only when you’re afraid of losing something.”

Then I shut the door.

And for the first time in our marriage, I didn’t wonder whether he’d stay outside.

I didn’t care.

Or at least, I desperately wanted to believe I didn’t.

Twenty minutes later, Adrian was still sitting in the hallway.

Bianca had left.

His security team had called twice, but he’d ignored both calls.

He sat with his elbows on his knees, staring at the closed door as if it were the only thing separating him from the last eight years of his life.

Then his phone rang.

His attorney.

“Adrian, we need to discuss Elena’s custody filing.”

“Cancel everything.”

“Cancel what?”

“The divorce. The negotiations. All of it.”

There was a pause.

“Adrian, your wife has made it clear that she wants to proceed.”

“I don’t care what she wants right now. She’s carrying my child.”

His attorney’s voice hardened.

“That’s exactly why you need to start listening to her. You cannot undo eight years of neglect by demanding that she stay married to you.”

Adrian said nothing.

Then the attorney added, “And there’s another issue. Elena’s lawyer has requested that all communication concerning the baby go through the legal team.”

“She’s treating me like a stranger.”

“No, Adrian. She’s establishing boundaries with a man who just discovered he was going to be a father after his wife had already decided she couldn’t trust him with the news.”

The call ended.

Adrian remained motionless.

Then, slowly, he remembered the small things.

The mornings Elena had waited for him to come downstairs.

The dinners he’d missed.

The anniversary she’d spent alone because he claimed a business emergency.

The times she’d asked him to come home early, and he’d promised he would.

He’d always ᴀssumed she’d be there when he returned.

He had mistaken her patience for permanence.

And now, the woman who had spent eight years making room for him had finally made a life where he wasn’t needed.

The next morning, I woke to a message from my attorney.

ELENA, THERE’S BEEN A DEVELOPMENT. PLEASE CALL ME BEFORE SPEAKING TO ADRIAN OR BIANCA.

My stomach тιԍнтened.

I called immediately.

“What happened?”

“Bianca contacted our office last night.”

I sat up in bed.

“Why?”

“She claims Adrian has been hiding something from both of you. Something connected to a financial arrangement made several months ago.”

I frowned.

“What kind of arrangement?”

“She’s refusing to provide details unless she speaks with you directly.”

I almost laughed.

After everything Bianca had done, she expected me to listen to her?

“Tell her I’m not interested.”

“I thought you’d say that. But there’s something else.”

My attorney paused.

“Bianca claims Adrian knew about your pregnancy before you did.”

I stopped breathing for a moment.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“She says he discovered a medical document in your car months ago. According to her, he believed you were pregnant and asked someone to investigate.”

My fingers тιԍнтened around the phone.

Months ago, I had taken a pregnancy test that came back negative.

I hadn’t told Adrian because there had been nothing to tell.

I didn’t discover I was pregnant until weeks later.

“Why would he investigate me?”

“I don’t know. But Bianca says she has proof that he was trying to protect you from someone.”

Protect me?

From whom?

Before I could ask another question, my phone lit up with an incoming call from an unfamiliar number.

My attorney fell silent.

“Don’t answer it yet,” she warned.

But the caller left a voicemail.

I played it on speaker.

A man’s voice came through, low and urgent.

“Mrs. Romano, my name is Daniel Hayes. I worked in your husband’s private security division for six years. There’s something you need to know about the night you went to the hospital.”

I gripped the edge of the bed.

“Mr. Romano wasn’t simply unavailable that night. He received a warning that someone had been following you.”

My heart began pounding.

“What warning?”

The man continued.

“He ordered us to keep our distance from you and not reveal what we knew. He said it was for your protection.”

I shook my head.

“No…”

The recording continued.

“But there’s something worse. The person who reported your movements wasn’t an enemy of the Romano family.”

A pause.

“It was someone Adrian trusted enough to bring into your home.”

Then the voicemail ended.

I sat completely still.

Someone had been watching me.

Someone who knew where I went, when I left, and which hospital I visited.

And Adrian had known.

Maybe he’d been protecting me.

Maybe he had simply found another excuse to keep secrets.

I didn’t know which possibility frightened me more.

Then another message arrived.

This time, it was from Bianca.

“You deserve the truth, Elena. Meet me alone at noon. Bring no lawyer, no security, and don’t tell Adrian.”

A pH๏τograph followed.

It showed Bianca standing beside a man I recognized immediately.

Daniel Hayes.

The former security chief who had just warned me about the person following me.

But that wasn’t what made my hands go cold.

The pH๏τograph was dated three weeks earlier.

The night I’d been alone in the hospital.

And on the back of the pH๏τograph, someone had written six words:

SHE KNOWS ABOUT THE BABY. ELIMINATE THE RISK.

I stared at the message, unable to tell who had written it—or who it was meant for.

Then my attorney called again.

“Elena, whatever you do, don’t go anywhere alone.”

I looked down at my stomach.

For the first time, my divorce no longer felt like a battle over a marriage.

It felt like a race to discover who had been lying to me—and whether my unborn child was caught in the middle.

And somewhere across Chicago, Adrian Romano was about to discover that the woman he had underestimated for eight years was the one person who could unravel everything.

Because Bianca hadn’t just betrayed our marriage.

She was hiding a secret that could destroy the Romano family from the inside.

PART 4: Elena agrees to meet Bianca—but when she arrives, the person waiting for her isn’t Bianca. And the first words he speaks reveal a truth about Adrian that Elena never imagined possible…