Chapter 10 - The Affair That Never Happened
Beatriz’s confession shattered the room.
Alejandro stared at the photograph of Lucía.
“My father slept with Camila’s mother?”
“No.”
Dad said it immediately.
Beatriz looked at him.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because Lucía was married.”
“So?”
“To Esteban Cruz.”
Silence.
The old driver.
The missing man now driving Camila.
Camila’s mother had been married to my mother’s driver.
That connected everything.
Beatriz covered her mouth.
“I didn’t know.”
Dad looked at her.
“You were lied to.”
“I saw them together.”
“Investigating.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“What did Mariana tell you?”
Beatriz closed her eyes.
“She said Federico planned to leave me.”
“She showed me photographs of him entering hotels with Lucía.”
“She had copies of telephone records.”
“She said he had been moving money.”
Alejandro whispered.
“And you believed her.”
“I was afraid.”
“What did you do?”
“I confronted your father.”
“Did he explain?”
“No.”
“He became furious.”
“He told me never to mention Lucía again.”
Dad shook his head.
“Because he was trying to protect her.”
“I know that now.”
“But that night I thought he was protecting an affair.”
I watched the realization crush her.
For twenty-two years, Beatriz had believed her husband betrayed her.
Just as I had discovered Alejandro’s betrayal.
But Beatriz’s evidence had been manufactured.
Mine had not.
“What happened at the Hotel Imperial?” I asked.
“Mariana called me.”
“She said she had proof.”
“What kind?”
“A recording.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed.
“Of Federico?”
“She claimed it was.”
“Did you hear it?”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
Beatriz struggled to remember.
“A man’s voice said Isabel had discovered too much.”
“Another voice said the car had to be handled before morning.”
My father grabbed the desk.
“You heard that the night Isabel died?”
“I didn’t know what it meant.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because Mariana told me it was Federico speaking.”
Dad turned away.
His grief filled the room.
Beatriz continued.
“She said Federico and Lucía were planning something against you.”
“She said Isabel had discovered their scheme.”
“You thought Federico was involved in killing my mother?”
“I didn’t know what to think.”
“What did you do with the recording?”
“Mariana took it.”
“Of course.”
“What happened next?”
“She asked me to call Federico.”
“Why?”
“To find out where he was.”
My stomach dropped.
“Did you?”
Beatriz started shaking.
“Yes.”
Dad turned slowly.
“What did you tell him?”
“I asked where he was.”
“He said he was with Isabel.”
My heart stopped.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“Did you tell Mariana?”
Beatriz nodded.
Dad’s face transformed.
“You gave them Isabel’s location.”
“No.”
“I only said Federico was with her.”
“You gave them confirmation.”
“I didn’t know.”
Dad slammed his hand onto the desk.
Everyone jumped.
“I DIDN’T KNOW.”
Beatriz screamed it back.
Her voice broke.
“I have lived with that sentence for twenty-two years.”
The room went silent.
She collapsed into the chair.
“I knew something was wrong when the news came.”
“I called Mariana.”
“The number was disconnected.”
“I went to the hotel.”
“She was gone.”
“I searched for her.”
“Nothing.”
“Then the Swiss account appeared.”
“I thought someone was threatening me.”
“So I stayed silent.”
Alejandro looked at her with horror.
“You knew there was something suspicious about Isabel’s death.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told Arturo.”
“No.”
“Or Dad.”
“No.”
“Or the police.”
“No.”
He stepped backward.
His expression became disgust.
Beatriz whispered his name.
He looked at her.
“You taught me this.”
Her face collapsed.
“What?”
“You taught me that protecting yourself matters more than telling the truth.”
He laughed bitterly.
“You taught me to hide mistakes until somebody else pays for them.”
Beatriz started crying harder.
I looked at Alejandro.
He was not talking only about her.
He was talking about himself.
Camila.
Our marriage.
The company.
All of it.
A phone vibrated.
Mine.
One new message.
From Camila.
A location pin.
An abandoned warehouse district near the old railway yards.
And one sentence.
COME ALONE IF YOU WANT THE BOX.
Alejandro immediately shook his head.
“No.”
Dad agreed.
“You’re not going.”
I looked at the message.
Camila sent another.
I KNOW WHO M.C. IS.
Then another.
YOUR FATHER DOES TOO.
I turned toward Dad.
His expression told me he did not.
But Camila wanted me to doubt him.
That was the point.
I typed one response.
PROVE YOU HAVE THE BOX.
A photograph arrived.
A blue metal document case.
Open.
Inside were yellowed folders.
A cassette tape.
And a sealed envelope bearing my mother’s handwriting.
My name was written across the front.
VALERIA.
My hands began trembling.
I had not seen my mother’s handwriting in years.
Camila sent one last message.
ONE HOUR.
NO ARTURO.
NO ALEJANDRO.
NO POLICE.
I looked at the photograph.
Then at my father.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
“I’m not asking.”
“You think I’m letting you walk into a warehouse alone?”
“I won’t be alone.”
Camila had demanded appearances.
She had not demanded stupidity.
Gabriel understood immediately.
“We can track you from a distance.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
I touched his arm.
“If that envelope is really from Mom, I have to know.”
His eyes filled with fear.
Not businessman fear.
Father fear.
The kind he had probably lived with since I was fourteen.
Finally, he nodded.
“One condition.”
“What?”
“If anything feels wrong, you leave.”
I looked at Alejandro.
For three years, I had trusted the wrong man with my heart.
Now I was about to walk into a trap set by the woman he chose over me.
But this was no longer about my marriage.
It was about a dead mother.
A missing woman.
A stolen box.
And a name powerful enough to remain hidden for twenty-two years.
May you like
I picked up my coat.
“Let’s find out what Camila really knows.”
