Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Knew Too Much
By nine that morning, the story was everywhere.
Financial networks.
Business websites.
Social media.
Commentators who had never met me were suddenly experts on my marriage.
Some called me a secret heiress.
Others called me manipulative.
One headline asked whether I had married Alejandro to position Grupo Vanguardia inside the De la Vega empire.
I almost laughed at that one.
The truth was exactly the opposite.
I had spent three years hiding my influence.
Now my silence was being used as proof of conspiracy.
My father’s communications director arrived before ten.
So did two lawyers.
Then three security officers.
Alejandro and Beatriz remained in the house.
Not because I wanted them there.
Because Dad had ordered everyone who knew about the breach to stay until our lawyers understood the damage.
Beatriz paced near the fireplace.
“This is catastrophic.”
I looked up from my laptop.
“For whom?”
“For all of us.”
“No.”
I closed the screen.
“It’s catastrophic for you because your company needs money.”
Her cheeks tightened.
“You were married to my son.”
“You remembered that remarkably quickly.”
Alejandro turned away.
Beatriz lowered her voice.
“I treated you like family.”
I stared at her.
“You made me use the service entrance at your country club because you said the front lobby was reserved for members.”
Her face changed.
“That was a misunderstanding.”
“You introduced Camila as Alejandro’s business colleague at Christmas while she was sleeping with him.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You knew she wore the bracelet he bought her.”
Silence.
Alejandro looked at his mother.
“Mom?”
Beatriz’s head turned sharply.
I watched both of them.
That reaction mattered.
Alejandro stepped closer.
“You knew about the bracelet?”
“I saw jewelry.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
She looked toward the windows.
“I had suspicions.”
“How long?”
“Alejandro.”
“How long?”
Beatriz’s mouth tightened.
“Several months.”
He stared at her.
For the first time since our divorce, I saw genuine shock on his face.
“You knew I was seeing Camila?”
“I knew you were behaving foolishly.”
“You knew.”
Beatriz straightened.
“And what would you have preferred?”
“That you told me to stop.”
“You were thirty-six years old.”
“I was married.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes moved to me.
“And your wife had never bothered to tell us who she really was.”
Something inside me went completely still.
“So my father’s identity justified your son’s affair?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Alejandro rubbed both hands over his face.
He looked suddenly older.
But I felt no sympathy.
Regret was not innocence.
The door opened.
Elena entered with our chief security officer, Gabriel Torres.
He carried a laptop.
“We found something.”
My father stood.
Gabriel connected the computer to the television.
A security video appeared.
Timestamp.
1:54 A.M.
Grupo Vanguardia parking garage.
A black Mercedes pulled into the executive level.
The driver’s door opened.
Ricardo Salazar stepped out.
Then the passenger door opened.
Camila emerged.
Alejandro whispered a curse.
The video continued.
Camila wore black pants, a gray coat, and a baseball cap.
Nothing glamorous.
Nothing like the woman who had mocked me in the restaurant.
She looked around before following Ricardo toward the elevator.
At 2:09, they entered Conference Room Fourteen.
At 2:17, they left.
Camila carried her phone.
Ricardo carried a laptop.
At 2:22, the elevator camera caught them speaking.
There was no audio.
But Camila appeared angry.
Ricardo pointed at her.
She slapped his hand away.
Then he said something that made her smile.
The recording ended.
Alejandro stared at the screen.
“She knew him.”
“Clearly.”
“I never introduced them.”
Dad looked at him.
“Who did?”
Alejandro was silent.
I had another question.
“When did you meet Camila?”
His eyes moved toward me.
“Two years ago.”
“Where?”
“A launch party.”
“Whose?”
He hesitated.
“Ricardo’s son’s company.”
The room changed.
Even Beatriz stopped moving.
I leaned forward.
“Camila met you through Ricardo Salazar?”
“I didn’t know they were close.”
“Think.”
“I met hundreds of people that night.”
“Think harder.”
He closed his eyes.
Then his face shifted.
“She was standing with him when I first saw her.”
My father looked toward Gabriel.
“Pull the guest list from Salazar’s son’s launch.”
Gabriel nodded.
Alejandro sat down.
“This was before Camila and I…”
“Before you started sleeping with her.”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
Something unpleasant formed in my stomach.
“Did she approach you?”
He did not answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
“She approached you.”
“She started a conversation.”
“About what?”
“My company.”
I stared at him.
“Of course.”
“At the time, it seemed normal.”
“What did she ask?”
“She said she had heard about our technology complex.”
My father’s expression changed.
“Two years ago?”
“Yes.”
Dad looked at me.
Two years ago, Desarrollos De la Vega had not publicly announced the financial problems surrounding the technology complex.
Most investors knew the project existed.
Very few knew Federico was beginning to struggle.
“How much did you tell her?” I asked.
Alejandro stood.
“Nothing confidential.”
“How much?”
He looked at the floor.
“I complained.”
“About?”
“My father.”
“About?”
“The project.”
Beatriz whispered, “Alejandro.”
He ignored her.
“I said financing was becoming difficult.”
My chest tightened.
“What else?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Try.”
“I probably mentioned lenders.”
“Did you mention Grupo Vanguardia?”
His silence lasted too long.
“Yes.”
My father slowly walked toward him.
“What exactly did you say about my company?”
Alejandro swallowed.
“That Federico wanted a meeting with you.”
“Anything about Valeria?”
“No.”
I believed that.
At the time, Alejandro had not known my connection.
But Camila had known something else.
She had known about the De la Vega financing crisis long before she began sleeping with him.
And the person standing beside her the night they met was a Vanguardia executive who wanted my seat.
I turned to Gabriel.
“Find everything linking Camila and Ricardo.”
“We already started.”
My phone vibrated.
This time the message came from a number I recognized.
Camila.
One photograph.
A screenshot of a private email.
From Alejandro.
To her.
Sent seven months earlier.
I read the first lines.
My stomach dropped.
VALERIA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND BUSINESS.
SHE’S NEVER HAD TO MAKE A REAL DECISION IN HER LIFE.
IF MY FATHER LOSES THIS PROJECT, AT LEAST I KNOW YOU’LL UNDERSTAND WHAT IT COSTS ME.
I lifted my eyes.
Alejandro saw my face.
“What?”
I turned the phone around.
His color disappeared.
Beatriz whispered his name.
I said nothing.
I did not need to.
The message proved something I had already suspected.
Camila had not simply stolen information from Alejandro.
May you like
He had given it willingly.
And now she had evidence showing exactly how little my husband had thought of me while sharing his company’s secrets with the woman in his bed.
