Chapter 7 - The Husband Who Never Loved Me
My father was brought to St. Aurelia under armed protection.
I watched through the window as medical staff moved his stretcher into a private neurological unit. His hair was gray, his body thin from years of confinement, but he was alive.
Grandfather stood beside me.
Neither of us spoke.
There are moments too large for immediate emotion.
I had spent most of my life mourning a dead man.
Now I was terrified to meet the living one.
Doctors examined him for hours. They found evidence of long-term sedation, repeated restraint injuries, malnutrition, and neurological damage consistent with prolonged misuse of medication.
He drifted between awareness and confusion.
Sometimes he said my mother’s name.
Sometimes he asked whether the plane had landed.
At other moments, he stared at the wall as though listening to voices from another time.
The neurologist warned us not to overwhelm him.
“He may recognize people briefly and then lose the connection,” she said. “Recovery could take months or years. Some memories may never return.”
“Can I see him?” I asked.
“For a few minutes.”
Grandfather remained outside.
He said my father should see me first.
I entered slowly.
William Mercer lay against white pillows with an intravenous line in his arm. Without the beard and exhaustion, I could see traces of the man from my childhood photographs.
I sat beside him.
“Hello.”
His eyes moved toward me.
For several seconds, there was nothing.
Then his brow furrowed.
“Ellie?”
“That was my mother.”
He looked frightened.
“Where is she?”
I wanted to protect him from the answer.
But my family had suffered enough from protective lies.
“She died sixteen years ago.”
He closed his eyes.
A tear moved down the side of his face.
“I couldn’t get back.”
“I know.”
“They told me you were gone.”
“I’m here.”
His eyes opened.
“Audrey?”
“Yes.”
He lifted his hand.
I placed mine beneath it.
His fingers touched my cheek, uncertain and trembling.
“You got tall.”
A laugh escaped me through the tears.
“I did.”
“Did I miss your birthday?”
“Several.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You survived. That’s enough for today.”
He looked toward the door.
“Eleanor hid it.”
“What did she hide?”
“The ledger.”
“Where?”
His breathing quickened.
“Music. The little song.”
The monitor changed rhythm.
A nurse entered and asked me to step away.
Before I left, he caught my wrist.
“Don’t trust the husband.”
I froze.
“Dominic?”
His eyes became clear for one terrifying second.
“He came to Westbridge.”
“When?”
“Before the wedding.”
My chest tightened.
“What did he say?”
My father’s gaze drifted again.
“He wanted to know if you remembered him.”
I left the room shaking.
Dominic had visited my imprisoned father before marrying me.
Any remaining belief that our relationship contained genuine love died in that hallway.
Detective Cole arranged another interview with Dominic.
This time, I insisted on attending.
Dominic sat behind thick glass in a detention center consultation room. He wore a plain gray uniform, but he still carried himself like an executive inconvenienced by a scheduling error.
When he saw me, he smiled.
“I wondered how long it would take you to come.”
I picked up the phone on my side of the glass.
“My father is alive.”
His smile faded slightly.
“So they found him.”
“You knew.”
“I knew there was a patient Samuel considered valuable.”
“You visited him before our wedding.”
Dominic leaned back.
“My mother took me.”
“You were an adult.”
“Barely.”
“You asked whether I remembered you.”
His eyes narrowed.
“William said that?”
“He remembers more than you hoped.”
Dominic looked toward his attorney, who shook his head in warning.
I continued.
“You studied my life before meeting me.”
“I knew of you.”
“You collected my school records.”
“Gordon collected them.”
“You isolated me from Grandfather.”
“Your relationship with Theodore was already difficult.”
“You stole my letters.”
“I protected our marriage.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I delegated legal work.”
“You altered my medication.”
His face became still.
That was the first accusation that frightened him.
“I had nothing to do with your medical treatment.”
“Samuel told you the dosage failed.”
The attorney turned toward Dominic.
He clearly had not heard the recording.
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
“You don’t understand the context.”
“Explain it.”
“You were supposed to deliver early.”
The words came out before he could stop them.
His attorney whispered a curse.
I held the phone more tightly.
“Why?”
“The twins needed to be born before the Sterling board meeting.”
“What board meeting?”
“The succession vote.”
Grandfather had planned to announce a transition in leadership. Once my children were born, Dominic intended to present himself as representative of the next Sterling generation.
He believed the board would support him if I appeared medically fragile.
“And if I died?” I asked.
“You weren’t supposed to die.”
“You asked Samuel why I was still alive.”
“I was angry.”
“You tried to transfer me to a clinic without intensive care.”
“To keep Theodore from seeing you.”
“Why?”
“Because you called for him when you were unconscious.”
I stared at Dominic.
“What?”
“You kept saying ‘Grandfather.’ The nurses documented it.”
Even while unconscious, some part of me understood who could protect me.
Dominic realized I might reconnect with Theodore if I woke.
So he tried to move me.
I looked at the man I had shared a bed with for seven years.
“Did you ever love me?”
His expression changed.
For a moment, he almost looked offended.
“I gave you seven years.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I built a life with you.”
“With my family’s money.”
“I could have married anyone.”
“But they wouldn’t inherit nine hundred million dollars.”
Dominic leaned closer to the glass.
“You think Theodore’s love is pure? He sees you as a continuation of the Sterling name. Your mother saw you as a reason to fight. I saw you as an opportunity. Everyone wants something, Audrey.”
“My babies wanted me to survive.”
He rolled his eyes.
“They don’t know you.”
“They know my heartbeat.”
His jaw tightened.
“You always make everything sentimental.”
“And you make everything transactional.”
“That’s how the world works.”
“No. That’s how you work.”
I placed a copy of the genuine divorce petition against the glass.
Marian had prepared it that morning.
The petition requested dissolution based on fraud, cruelty, financial abuse, and criminal conduct. It also sought permanent termination of Dominic’s parental decision-making rights pending the criminal proceedings.
His gaze moved over the first page.
“You won’t take my children.”
“You tried to steal them.”
“They are Hales.”
“They are Liam and Chloe.”
“They carry my blood.”
“So do the children of men who go to prison.”
Dominic’s hand tightened around the receiver.
“You signed the settlement.”
“A settlement prepared by a disbarred attorney, notarized while I was unconscious, after you threatened me inside a critical-care unit.”
“You signed it voluntarily.”
“Hospital cameras recorded everything.”
For the first time, true panic appeared.
He had known cameras existed in the corridor.
He had not known they captured sound.
I leaned toward the glass.
“You smiled when you said you emptied the accounts. Natalie laughed when you handed me the papers. You called premature infants runts. A jury will hear every word.”
His attorney interrupted.
“This interview is over.”
Dominic ignored him.
“What do you want?”
The question revealed him completely.
Even now, he assumed every person had a price.
“I want the names of everyone involved.”
“And what do I receive?”
“You receive the opportunity to tell the truth once in your life.”
He laughed.
“That’s worthless.”
“Then we’re done.”
I stood carefully.
“Audrey.”
I looked back.
Dominic’s face had changed again. He looked desperate.
“Samuel has insurance.”
“What kind?”
“Records. Videos. Patient files.”
“Where?”
“I need a deal.”
“I’m not the prosecutor.”
“But Theodore controls people.”
“Grandfather is done burying crimes.”
Dominic stared at me.
“You think that makes him noble? Ask him what happened the night your mother died.”
I paused.
“What do you mean?”
“He was there.”
Grandfather had told me he arrived after the ambulance.
Dominic smiled when he saw doubt cross my face.
“Ask Theodore why he waited forty-three minutes before calling for help.”
I left without responding.
But the accusation followed me back to the hospital.
Grandfather was sitting with Liam when I returned. A nurse had helped him place one finger through the incubator opening.
He looked peaceful.
I hated that Dominic had placed suspicion inside that moment.
“Were you with my mother when she died?” I asked.
Grandfather’s hand stopped.
The nurse quietly left.
“Yes.”
“You told me you arrived afterward.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
He withdrew his hand from the incubator.
“Eleanor called me that night. She sounded confused. When I arrived, she was on the floor but still conscious.”
“Why did you wait forty-three minutes to call for help?”
Grandfather’s face filled with pain.
“She begged me not to call St. Aurelia.”
“So you did nothing?”
“I called Samuel.”
I closed my eyes.
Even after my mother warned him about Samuel, Grandfather called the doctor responsible.
“He told me Eleanor was experiencing a panic episode. He said an ambulance would worsen her condition.”
“And you believed him.”
“For forty-three minutes.”
“Then what happened?”
“She stopped breathing.”
I turned away.
“I performed CPR and called emergency services. But it was too late.”
“You protected Samuel afterward.”
“I believed I had killed my daughter through stupidity.”
“So you let him write the story.”
“Yes.”
I wanted to scream at him.
Instead, I looked at my premature son.
The people who claimed to protect our family had repeatedly chosen silence.
Grandfather stood beside me.
“I cannot undo it.”
“No.”
“But I can testify.”
“You could be charged.”
“I know.”
“You could lose the company.”
“I know.”
“Then why now?”
“Because your mother asked me to choose truth over fear, and I failed her. I won’t fail you the same way.”
Before I could answer, Marian entered.
She carried an old wooden music box recovered from my mother’s belongings.
My father had mentioned music and a little song.
Grandfather recognized it immediately.
“He gave this to Eleanor on their wedding day.”
The box played a soft version of “You Are My Sunshine.”
Inside, beneath the rotating figure, investigators found a hidden compartment.
It contained a small data drive.
The drive held the ledger.
Names of doctors.
Patient identifiers.
Drug trials.
Offshore accounts.
Payments to Samuel, Evelyn, Gordon, and dozens of others.
There were also video files.
One showed my mother confronting Samuel.
Another showed Evelyn forging foundation documents.
The final video was dated three days before my mother died.
Dominic appeared on-screen at twenty-one years old.
He stood beside my drugged father at Westbridge.
Young Dominic looked directly into the camera.
“If Audrey ever learns he’s alive,” he said, “everything belongs to her.”
Samuel answered from behind the camera.
“Then make sure she trusts you more than she trusts her family.”
Dominic smiled.
“That won’t be difficult.”
The video ended.
My marriage had been planned before I ever met him.
But the ledger contained one more revelation.
Natalie Price’s name appeared repeatedly.
Not as Dominic’s mistress.
As a paid participant in the plan beginning four years earlier.
May you like
Natalie had not accidentally fallen in love with my husband.
She had been recruited to help destroy me.
