Chapter 171

Chapter 171

"My right hand recovery?"

Bianca laughed—dry, brittle, short. "My right hand is done. You really don't know what the doctor said? Zero chance of recovery. I will never paint again. Do you understand that?"

Her voice climbed higher with every word, edging toward hysteria.

She wanted to cling to Aiden. She did.

But...

Bianca thought of Jasper's threat and bit down hard.

She had no choice.

Aiden stood by the bed in silence.

He stared at the tips of his shoes, his fingers slowly curling into fists at his sides.

He should feel sad. He knew that.

So why did he feel nothing?

Why did he feel... relieved?

That wasn't right.

Bianca watched his silence. Then she slammed her palm against the tray table. The soup bowl rocked, tipped, and the remaining broth flooded across the surface.

"Aiden, say something! You want to divorce me, fine—but say it to my face!"

"Say what?"

Aiden lifted his head. His voice was quiet, but something was fraying at the edges. "You tell me your hand is ruined. I come to this hospital every single day. What more do you want? All you do is scream at me—at the Smith family, at Victoria, at me. You even glare at the security guard walking past your door. Bianca, have you looked at yourself lately? Have you seen what you've become?"

Bianca stared at him, stunned into stillness.

Her lips trembled. Her eyes flooded red. But this time, she didn't cry.

She stared at him for several seconds, then forced the words through her teeth. "Who did I become this for? I had a studio. I had orders. I had a reputation. Who told me to go after Victoria? Who said, 'Take her down and there'll be a seat at Creative Haven for you'? And now you're blaming me for what I've turned into?"

The least innocent person in all of this was Aiden.

And he had the nerve to say those things.

Shameless.

Aiden flinched. She'd hit the nerve.

He had said those words. He couldn't deny them.

He closed his eyes. When he opened them, the anger had drained away. "...I was wrong to say those things. But bringing it up now doesn't change anything. You can't keep going on like this."

Bianca's hand was never going to heal.

And he was about to be forced out of his position.

Neither of them was getting out of this unscathed.

Bianca looked at him. The thin sheen of tears in her eyes caught the light.

She turned away, fixing her gaze on the half-dead pothos plant on the windowsill. Her voice dropped. "Your dad wants you to divorce me. So do it. I'll sign. I'm like this now—keeping me around won't do you any good."

The room fell silent.

Aiden stood by the bed, studying her profile. She'd lost so much weight. Her collarbones jutted from the hospital gown's neckline. Her fingers picked absently at the tray table.

He wanted to say something. His mouth opened, but all that came out was: "We'll talk about it after you're discharged."

Bianca didn't respond.

She kept staring at the pothos, as if she hadn't heard him.

Aiden stood there a moment longer, then turned and walked out.

After the door closed behind him, he leaned against the corridor wall and tilted his head back, staring up at the row of cold fluorescent tubes on the ceiling. He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose.

He thought of what Jasper had said that night.

"If you still have feelings for her, don't say I didn't warn you."

At the time, he'd thought Jasper was pressuring him. Now he realized the problem was his own.

He pushed off the wall and headed for the stairwell, his dress shoes echoing hollow against the tile.

---

That same afternoon, Veda sent Victoria a message.

[Had someone look into new faces who've had business contact with the Windsor Group in the last three months. List is ready. Let's meet this weekend—we'll talk over dinner.]

Victoria sent back a single word: [Okay.]

Then she put her phone down and went back to painting.

She wasn't in a rush.

The one who should be panicking was Michael.

He'd come all the way back from overseas. He was probably more worried than anyone.

Just then, footsteps sounded behind her.

"You're back."

Victoria didn't turn around. "How'd things go at the office? Run into anyone suspicious?"

They'd known each other long enough.

She could identify Edward by his footsteps alone.

"Just got out of a meeting."

Edward walked over and pulled up a chair beside her.

"Michael is buried deep. Every time we get a lead and follow it, we come up empty. Something's off."

Victoria's brow furrowed immediately.

"You're saying there's a mole inside the company? Someone feeding Michael your movements?"

She wasn't stupid.

Quite the opposite—her mind was sharper than most, and faster.

She connected the dots almost instantly.

"Anyone with access to that kind of information would have to be in your inner circle. You haven't made the investigation into Michael public, so..."

Before she could finish, Edward picked up where she left off.

"The only people who could do this are the ones closest to me."

His eyes narrowed, cold and calculating. "His target is the Windsor Group."

That lined up with what Victoria had already suspected.

Victoria tapped the table twice. "How many people around you have access to this kind of information?"

"No more than five."

Edward said. "Chase, and a few department heads."

"Small pool, but every one of them is a suspect."

Victoria looked at him. "How do you want to flush them out?"

Edward leaned back in his chair, his gaze resting on the half-finished painting on her desk. "Plant false information. See who bites first."

Victoria followed his logic. "Something like... you've located Michael's exact hideout and you're going to move on him tomorrow?"

"Exactly."

Edward said. "I'll drop it in a small meeting tomorrow morning. Only those five will be in the room. After the information is out, whoever makes a move is the mole."

Victoria thought for a moment. "What about me? What can I do?"

"Go to your studio as usual tomorrow."

Edward said. "I'll have someone plant a separate piece of information near your studio—that you're still tracing the financial records between Michael and Aiden, focused on gathering more evidence for the Spencer family appeal. Make Michael think your attention is still on Aiden, not on anyone inside."

Victoria nodded. "Misdirection."

"Right."

Edward stood and walked to the window, glancing at the sky outside. "Wait for my message tomorrow afternoon. If the mole surfaces, I won't move on him right away. I'll follow the trail from him to Michael's location."

Victoria watched his back. Then she spoke. "What if that person has been with you for years? Can you still pull the trigger?"

Edward didn't turn around. His voice was level. "How many years someone's been with me and whether they betray me are two different things."