The Price Of His Betrayal

Lena’s POV “Oh, not again. Not again!” I yelled, cleaning myself up in the bathroom. I didn’t tell anyone I was bleeding. Not the housekeeper who brought me my tea that morning. Not Nadia, who is both my step mother and best friend. Not even my husband Gideon when he kissed the corner of my mouth and told me he’d be “a little late for the meeting.” Especially not Gideon. There’s something pathetic about the way I still reached for his fingers, even as he pulled away. My body ached, but I didn’t ask him to stay. I never did. Instead, I pressed my lips together and nodded like a good wife. Like a woman who hadn’t just flushed away her third pregnancy in under two years, alone, silent, and staring at her own blood like it was some kind of curse. I’d hoped this time would be different. I’d even knitted a little pair of socks. They were sky blue. I hid them in my closet now, folded neatly between a stack of summer sweaters I never wore. I couldn’t bring myself to throw them out. I had breakfast with Nadia and tried to act normal for most of the morning. She talked about my father, about how she hopes he gets out of the coma soon. Nadia was going through a lot, but I couldn’t help but tell her what I am going through as well. “I lost the baby,” I whispered to her. Her eyes flicked in my direction, while her hands gripped the mug of coffee. Nadia had a look of both shock and sympathy. For a minute she didn't say a word. I tried to smile and break the tension, but tears rolled down my cheeks. “I didn’t even tell you I was pregnant. I didn’t want to jinx it.” “I am so sorry this is happening to you,” Nadia said, as she dropped the mug and stretched her hand to hold mine. “I think it was a boy this time,” I said, swallowing down the knot forming in my throat. “I was going to tell Gideon tonight. Surprise him. Maybe... maybe he’d be proud.” She looked me in the eyes. “I know nothing makes sense right now, but everything will get better.” Just then, a knock came at the door, and I quickly wiped my face with the back of my sleeve. One of the house staff poked their head in. “Miss Lena. The cars are ready for the shareholder’s meeting.” “Thank you,” I said, standing a little too fast. Pain lanced through my lower back. I smiled through it. Smiling was easier than explaining. “Are you sure you can handle it? You can stay home and rest,” she said with a concerned expression. I gave Nadia’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Thanks for your concern, but I can handle it. I will be fine.” ************** The boardroom was colder than I remembered. Polished glass. Mahogany chairs. Older men in darker suits. I recognized most of them, uncles, cousins, former partners of my father, now vultures hovering over what remained of this empire. Gideon arrived after me. Hair slicked back. Jacket unbuttoned like he was strolling into a fashion shoot. He took the seat next to mine without acknowledging me. I folded my hands in my lap and tried not to notice the way he smelled like someone else’s perfume. He always used to let me fix his collar before these meetings. But he hadn’t asked in months. The meeting began with projections, numbers, and talk of overseas acquisitions. My mind wandered. And then my Uncle Vittorio stood. “There’s a matter of urgency we must address,” he said, eyes locked on Gideon. “Regarding Company accounts, and unauthorized withdrawals totaling over three million dollars.” The room tensed. I felt Gideon stiffen beside me. “What the hell is this?” he muttered. Another board member stood. “The financial audit was conducted twice. All signs point to the same account, your personal one, Mr. Whitmore.” Whispers. Shuffling papers. My stomach twisted. “This is absurd,” Gideon said, louder now. “Are you suggesting I embezzled from my own family?” “We’re not suggesting,” said Uncle Vittorio. “We’re showing you the proof.” He tapped a folder. A thick, damning one. Gideon’s hand gripped my thigh under the table. I jumped. He leaned close, hissing in my ear, “Say something.” I blinked at him. “What?” “Tell them it was you. Tell them you moved the funds on my behalf. That it was a mistake.” My heart stopped. “Gideon, I—” “They’ll believe you,” he whispered urgently. “They always do. You’re the Vitale princess. Sweet, innocent Lena. Just say it was a mix-up while managing your father's shares.” My mouth went dry. I looked around the room, eyes on me now. Some were sympathetic. Some smug. “I could go to jail for this,” he said. “You don’t want that, do you? After everything?” After everything. As if that justified it. As if love meant swallowing my pride. Again. And again. And again. My father had always told me: “Love without loyalty is just well-dressed cruelty.” But Gideon wasn’t cruel. Was he? He’d just made a mistake. A lapse in judgment. He’d fix it. This wasn’t who he was. I stood up. “It was me,” I said softly. The words felt like swallowing glass. “I... I accessed the funds without realizing the restrictions. I was helping manage my father’s accounts and misunderstood the transfer system. Gideon didn’t know.” Silence. Then murmurs. Then: “We’ll call an internal hearing,” someone said. “Pending legal review.” Gideon didn’t look at me. Not once. Not even as two policemen badged into the boardroom and said I’d have to come in for questioning. My knees buckled. The bleeding hadn’t stopped. It started trickling. Something was wrong. “This is a misunderstanding that we can sort out internally, there's no need for this,” I yelled, as I tried to grasp what was going on. The policemen scoffed at me and placed cold handcuffs on my hands. Looked at Gideon hoping he would respond, but he did nothing.