Chapter 51: The Brooch

The mansion was steeped in an unsettling silence that night. Alexander had insisted Isabella rest after her fainting episode, but she, restless and consumed by fragmented memories, sat alone in her room, watching the rain pound against the window.

Meanwhile, in his study, Alexander sat at his desk, turning between his fingers the ring he had once handed to a stranger who had saved his life. The revelation that Miranda now carried that same ring had pushed him to the edge of uncertainty. Could she really be the woman from that night? Something didn’t add up.

Soft knocks at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

—Come in —he answered, his tone serious.

Ethan peeked his head in, his expression timid.

—Dad, can I come in?

Alexander gave him a faint smile and gestured for him to enter.

—What is it, son?

Ethan closed the door behind him and sat across from his father, clutching a cushion as if it were a shield.

—Dad, I want to ask you something… but please don’t get mad.

Alexander raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

—Go ahead, Ethan.

—Why do you have to marry Miranda? —he asked suddenly, his eyes filled with genuine concern—. She’s not a good person, Dad. You know that.

Alexander sighed, setting the ring on the desk and looking at his son intently.

—Ethan, it’s not as simple as it seems. There are things you don’t understand yet…

—Is it because of the company? —Ethan pressed, cutting him off.

Alexander froze. His son was more perceptive than he had imagined.

—Partly, yes. There are commitments I have to fulfill to protect our life and the company’s future.

Ethan’s eyes glistened.

—But if you don’t want to marry her… then why are you doing it? Can’t you find another way?

Alexander pursed his lips, feeling the weight of his decisions like a yoke around his neck.

—I’m looking for a solution, Ethan. Believe me, I don’t want this, but there are things…

Ethan interrupted with unexpected firmness for a child so young:

—Don’t marry her. Isabella likes you, Dad. I know because she always smiles when you’re around.

Something stirred inside Alexander upon hearing those words. Ethan wasn’t wrong. Isabella made him feel alive, in a way no one else had before.

—Ethan… —he began, but stopped himself.

Suddenly, a muffled scream echoed through the hallway.

—Alexander!

It was Isabella’s voice.

Alexander and Ethan bolted from the room. When they reached the hallway, they found her on the floor, trembling, tears streaming down her face. She was clutching something in her hands—an object that had fallen from Miranda’s mother’s purse: a brooch bearing the symbol of the hospital where Isabella had given birth years ago.

—What’s wrong, Isabella? —he asked, kneeling beside her, alarmed.

Isabella raised the brooch shakily, holding it up as if it were irrefutable evidence.

—This fell out of Miranda’s mother’s bag! —she exclaimed, her voice trembling with fury—. It’s from the hospital where I gave birth! Why does she have it?

Alexander frowned, staring at the brooch as he processed what Isabella was saying.

—Are you sure? —he asked, his tone low but intense.

—I know it! —Isabella cried, leaping to her feet—. This belongs to the hospital where… where my baby was born. I remember it clearly.

Alexander placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.

—Isabella, calm down. We’ll figure this out together.

But Isabella was beside herself.

—You don’t understand! —she said through tears—. This isn’t a coincidence. That woman knows something, Alexander. She…

At that moment, Miranda’s mother appeared in the hallway, her face composed but with a glimmer of discomfort upon seeing the brooch in Isabella’s hands.

—What’s going on here? —she asked with feigned concern, though her tone was cold.

Isabella spun around, facing her directly.

—You know what this means! —she shouted, holding up the brooch—. Tell me the truth! What did you do with my baby?

Miranda’s mother blinked, startled, but quickly regained her composure.

—I don’t know what you’re talking about, child —she replied with an icy tone—. That brooch must have fallen out at some point, but it has nothing to do with you.

—You’re lying! —Isabella countered, her body shaking with restrained anger—. This isn’t a coincidence, and you know it. You were there!

—I won’t tolerate this behavior —the woman said, feigning indignation—. I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I demand that you calm down.

Before Isabella could respond, her body gave way under the weight of her emotions, and everything went black.

—Isabella! —Alexander shouted, catching her before she hit the floor.

Miranda’s mother stepped back, visibly uncomfortable with the scene.

—Perhaps I should call a doctor… —she murmured, avoiding Alexander’s gaze.

He didn’t respond. Gently, he lifted Isabella in his arms and carried her to her room, where he laid her on the bed. He stayed by her side, watching as her pale face began to regain some color.

Alexander took out his phone, a new determination in his gaze, and dialed a number.

—I need you to investigate something —he said to the person on the other end—. I want everything on Mrs. Deveraux and her connection to the hospital where Isabella’s child was born.

He hung up, his jaw set. Something wasn’t right, and Alexander wouldn’t rest until he uncovered the truth.

Isabella awoke hours later in her room, bathed in the warm glow of the morning light filtering through the curtains. Alexander sat in a chair beside her bed, his eyes fixed on her, his expression a mixture of concern and resolve.

—How do you feel? —he asked softly.

Isabella sat up slowly, still a little dazed. Then, the memories came rushing back: the brooch, Miranda’s mother, the anger.

—The brooch… —she whispered, bringing a hand to her forehead—. Alexander, what happened after?

—I have it —he replied, pulling the object from his pocket—. Isabella, this is bigger than I thought. There’s something strange about all of this, and I’m already looking into it.

She stared at him, a mixture of hope and fear in her eyes.

—What do you think it means?

—I don’t know yet —Alexander said, his tone firm—. But I do know Mrs. Deveraux is hiding something. Her reactions yesterday made that clear.

Isabella pressed her lips together, recalling the cold audacity of that woman.

—She knows something about my baby. I know it, Alexander.

He nodded slowly, leaning toward her.

—Isabella, I need you to trust me. I’m using all my contacts to find out the truth. But until then, I need you to stay calm.

—Calm? —she asked incredulously—. I can’t stay calm when the woman who might know where my child is still walks around this house like nothing happened!

Alexander sighed, understanding her frustration.

—I know, but we must be cautious. I don’t want her to suspect we’re investigating.

Isabella nodded reluctantly, though her heart was brimming with anxiety.

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Mrs. Deveraux stood by a window in the library, her hands clasped tightly. She hadn’t returned to her mansion yet, hoping to calm the situation with Alexander.

Miranda entered quietly, closing the door behind her.

—Mother, what happened yesterday? —Miranda asked, crossing her arms—. You’re more nervous than usual.

The woman shot her a severe look, her thin lips pressed tightly together.

—Isabella is closer to the truth than we anticipated —she replied in a cold whisper—. That damned brooch nearly ruined everything.

Miranda frowned, stepping closer.

—Why do you have something that connects her to that hospital? You said everything was destroyed, that there was no way anyone could find out.

Mrs. Deveraux exhaled in frustration.

—I thought it was. But apparently, I wasn’t careful enough.

Miranda eyed her warily.

—What did you really do, Mother?

The woman turned sharply, facing her daughter with a glacial expression.

—I did what was necessary to secure our future. Isabella mustn’t remember anything. Neither she nor Alexander can know the truth.

Miranda looked at her cautiously, but before she could respond, a soft knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Both women fell silent, tense.

—Who is it? —Miranda’s mother asked firmly.

—It’s me, Alexander —came the reply from the other side.

Miranda and her mother exchanged a quick glance.

—Come in —Miranda said, adjusting her posture and adopting a nonchalant expression.

Alexander entered, his gaze sharp and calculating.

—Mrs. Deveraux, I need to speak with you for a moment.

The woman smiled coldly.

—Of course, Alexander. What is it about?

Alexander studied her carefully, his eyes searching for any sign of unease.

—It’s about Isabella —he said finally—. I think her mood lately has been… strange, and I’m worried that something here in the mansion might be affecting her.

Miranda’s mother kept her expression neutral, but Alexander noticed a slight flicker in her eyes.

—What exactly do you mean? —she asked, feigning ignorance.

—Yesterday, she found a brooch —Alexander said calmly—. An object apparently connected to a traumatic moment in her past. I’m wondering if you might explain how it ended up in her purse.

The color drained slightly from the woman’s face, but she quickly regained her composure.

—I have no idea what you’re talking about —she replied firmly—. That brooch isn’t mine.

Alexander crossed his arms, studying her.

—Curious, because Isabella seems convinced otherwise. And she’s not one to invent things without reason.

Miranda interjected, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.

—Alexander, we can’t let this kind of thing disrupt our wedding preparations. Isabella has always been a bit… emotional. Maybe she’s imagining things.

Alexander turned to Miranda, his piercing gaze fixed on her.

—Emotional? —he repeated, his tone sharp—. It seems to me you’re underestimating what’s at stake here.

The tension in the room was palpable, but before Alexander could push further, his assistant knocked on the door.

—Excuse me —he said, stepping into the hallway.

When he was out of earshot, Miranda’s mother let out a deep breath, turning to her daughter.

—We can’t let this go any further. If Alexander keeps digging, everything could fall apart.

Miranda nodded, but doubt flickered in her eyes.

—What do we do then?

The woman gave her a cold stare.

—We do whatever it takes to protect our secret.