The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 114

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Emma’s hands trembled slightly as she dialed a number she hadn’t called in weeks. The phone rang three times before Richard Hayes answered.

“Emma? It’s late. Is everything alright?”

Richard’s voice carried the gentle concern of a father who had learned to expect bad news about his daughter but never stopped hoping for good.

“Uncle, there’s something I need to talk to you about. About Alina.”

A pause. Then Richard’s voice, suddenly alert. “What is it? Is Alina alright? We haven’t heard from her in over a month. Every time I call, they say she’s unavailable. Resting. Busy. Always an excuse.”

Emma closed her eyes. “That’s why I’m calling. Uncle, I have to be honest with you. Alina is not alright.”

The silence on the other end was heavy.

“Tell me everything,” Richard said quietly.

Emma did. She told him everything she’d heard from Mrs. Helen through their exchanged messages. Junior’s accident. The amnesia that made him forget Alina. The systematic isolation. The basement incident. Margaret’s control. Daniel’s refusal to let Alina leave.

All of it.

When she finished, Richard’s breathing was audible through the phone.

“My daughter is being held prisoner.” His voice shook with barely controlled rage. “In that house. By that family.”

“Yes.”

“And why are you telling me this now, Emma?”

“Alina refused to involve you, Uncle. But I need your help.” Emma’s voice grew more serious. “I have a lawyer. Rachel Chen. She’s been building a case. But without family involvement, without someone with legal standing to demand welfare checks for Alina, and to apply public pressure – Daniel and the Blackwood family can dismiss us

1 as outsiders interfering in their affairs.”

“What do you need from me?”

“Come to Rachel’s office tomorrow. Two PM. We’ll go over everything. Create a strategy. Your involvement changes the equation completely.“1

Richard was quiet for a moment.

“I should have pushed her harder to leave that house,” Richard said, full of regret. “When Daniel asked me to convince Alina to cooperate with Junior accepting his biological mother, I should have taken her away from that place. But I was powerless. Instead I let her stay. I’m truly useless as a father.”

“Don’t say that, Uncle.” Emma’s voice was gentle. “Alina cares deeply about you and the family. She had her own reasons for staying. It’s just that lately I think things have become increasingly difficult for her in the Blackwood household. I’m worried. That’s why I’ve taken the initiative to move quickly and get her out of there.”

“I understand what you mean. And I’ll support it,” Richard replied. “I just feel useless as a father. I should have protected her.”

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“It’s not too late,” Emma said, still soothing. “We can still fight for Alina.”

“You’re right.” Richard’s voice hardened with resolve. “I can still do something to protect her. And I won’t waste that chance. Tomorrow. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you, Uncle.”

“I’m only doing my duty. I swear I will get Alina out of that hell.”

The line went dead.

Emma set down her phone and looked at Rachel, who had been waiting for news.

“Uncle Richard agreed. He’ll come.”

Rachel allowed herself a small smile. A flicker of hope crossing her face. “Thank goodness. I believe our efforts won’t be wasted.”

***

Meanwhile, in her private sitting room, Margaret sat in front of her computer screen. Three panels glowed before her, displaying live feeds from Alina’s room.

Margaret had been watching for nearly an hour, since dinner ended. Reviewing Alina’s movements through the evening.

Alina had been compliant at dinner. Playing her role perfectly.

The moment she returned to her room, she changed into sleepwear. But she didn’t go straight to bed. She sat at the desk.

She pulled out the journal Daniel had given her.

And wrote.

For twenty minutes without stopping. Hand moving frantically across the pages.

Margaret leaned closer to the screen. Tried to make out the words Alina was writing. But she couldn’t see them.

The angle was wrong. The camera was positioned to capture the full room, not read specific text.

All she could see was Alina’s hand moving. The intensity of her writing unmistakably deliberate. And it made Margaret deeply curious.

What was she writing?

Plans? Strategies? Evidence?

Or just the ravings of a broken woman?

Margaret couldn’t be certain.

But whatever it was, she was sure Alina was pouring herself completely into that journal.

And that made her uneasy. Because if it ever got out, it would only prove everything Alina had endured in this house.

Margaret sipped her wine and kept watching. She clearly could not allow that to happen. She would not give Alina any opportunity to bring down her family.

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“I have to act,” Margaret murmured softly, eyes never leaving the screen.

On screen, Alina closed the journal. Locked it in the desk drawer. Tucked the key into a small box.

Then she moved to the window. Stood there for several minutes, staring out at the darkened grounds.

Her shoulders were rigid. Hands clenched at her sides.

Not the posture of someone who had surrendered.

The posture of someone fighting to hold themselves together.

Margaret smiled.

There it was. The crack she’d been looking for.

Alina hadn’t given up. She wasn’t simply broken. Only buried. Margaret was certain she was still planning something dangerous.

“Don’t think for a moment I’ll let you control my family,” Margaret murmured, lifting her wine glass again.

In Alina’s room, unaware she was being watched, the door opened. Daniel entered at ten PM, loosening his tie as he walked.

He’d been with Junior for the past hour. Reading bedtime stories. Answering questions about how planes flew and why the sky was blue.

Normal father–son time that Daniel deliberately arranged to accelerate Junior’s recovery.

Yet for all that time spent with Junior, not once had the boy asked about Alina. And that, for reasons Daniel couldn’t quite articulate, quietly unsettled him.

“What are you doing?” Daniel asked, approaching Alina who still stood near the window.

Alina answered without turning. “Looking at the garden.”

Daniel followed her gaze. Just the dark garden below. Nothing particularly worth watching. He drew a long breath, realizing his wife was likely lost somewhere in her own thoughts.

“I was just with Junior. He asked about the ocean. Whether fish sleep. I told him we could look it up together tomorrow.”

“That sounds nice.”

Flat. Disengaged.

Daniel changed into his sleep clothes. He tried again, searching for an opening.

“I’m glad you joined us for dinner. That’s good. Family should eat together.”

“Your mother insisted.”

“Still. It’s progress.”

Alina said nothing.

Daniel sat on the edge of the bed. Watching her back. His expression shifted into something quieter, heavier, as he registered the emptiness in the way she held herself.

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She looked like someone going through the motions of living without any internal engine to drive them.

“Alina.”

“Hm.”

Not a question. Just acknowledgment that he’d spoken.

“Are you angry with me?”

Alina turned and looked at him. Eyes empty.

“Would it change anything?”

“Yes. It would change something.”

“Would it? Would you let me leave if I admitted it?”

Daniel’s jaw tightened. “That’s not what I meant. I meant you can talk to me if something is wrong.”

“Something is wrong. I’m uncomfortable being here. I want to leave. I would be very grateful if you’d allow me to.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.” Daniel pressed his teeth together, irritation sharpening. “You should rest rather than thinking about things that don’t matter.”

Alina went quiet. She didn’t answer. Only turned her face away from Daniel and returned her gaze to the dark garden below.

After his frustration settled, Daniel crossed to her. “I know this has been difficult. I know you’re unhappy. But I promise – I will fix this. I’ll restore your position as lady of this house. Return the respect you deserve. I just need time.”

Alina laughed.

Sharp. Bitter, Without any warmth.

“I don’t need anything from you except freedom, Daniel.” She turned and met his eyes directly. “I don’t need to be recognized as your wife anymore. As Mrs. Blackwood. Or as Junior’s mother.”

Something moved behind Daniel’s eyes at those last words. Alina no longer wanted to be acknowledged as Junior’s mother? Was that true? Why?

“I only want my freedom. I hope you can give me that.”

“You’re still thinking about things that don’t matter, Alina,” Daniel said through his teeth. He was growing irritated again at her persistence.

“I’m tired of being a prisoner in this house. I want to be a person again.”

“You’re not a prisoner-”

“Then let me go.”

Silence.

Daniel said nothing. He didn’t offer a single word, even as Alina asked for her freedom for what felt like the hundredth time.

“You should sleep,” he said finally, after several long seconds, steering the conversation elsewhere. “You have to

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be up early to prepare breakfast tomorrow.”

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Alina let out a quiet, humorless sound. She turned and looked at him with that same hollow sharpness.

“Of course, Mr. Blackwood.” She walked past him where he still stood. “Good night.”

Daniel remained there a long time. Wanting to say something. Anything that could close the distance growing between them.

But there were no words.

Only the widening chasm of everything he’d done and failed to do.

Eventually he got into bed on his side.

The distance between them felt like miles, though only a few centimeters actually separated them.

“I know you don’t trust me,” he said quietly to her back. “But I do care about you. More than you know.”

No answer.

Only the sound of Alina’s breathing. Steady. Controlled.

Daniel lay back. He stared at the ceiling in the dark. “What do I have to do to make you stop wanting to leave?”

***

In her sitting room, Margaret watched the entire exchange on her laptop screen.

Listened to every word through the hidden microphones.

Watched Daniel’s face when Alina laughed at his promises.

Heard the defeat bleeding into his voice as he offered her his care.

Margaret’s fingers drummed slowly against the armrest.

Daniel had fallen in love with his wife.

Or perhaps he’d fallen long ago and was only now beginning to admit it.

Either way, it was a problem.

She’d seen it before. Years ago. When Daniel first brought Alina home.

The way he looked at her when she laughed at something Junior did. The softness in his voice when he spoke to her. The unconscious lean toward her in family photographs.

Margaret had worked to put it out each time. Reminding him of his obligations. Of Alina’s position. Of the contract marriage they had agreed upon.

But five years of living with someone, sharing a home, raising a child together feelings had developed.

Attachments had formed.

And now Daniel was beginning to acknowledge them.

Which meant he would fight harder to keep Alina.