Chapter 6: The Night My Father Died
I had spent six years believing my father's death was a tragedy.
Now I was beginning to wonder whether it had been a crime.
The thought was unbearable.
My father had been sixty-two when he died. He had suffered a cardiac arrest while staying at a private medical facility in Monterrey.
The official explanation was simple.
He had a history of hypertension, experienced sudden cardiac complications, and could not be resuscitated.
I remembered the funeral.
The black cars outside the church.
The flowers.
The employees who stood in silence.
I remembered Esteban putting his hand on my shoulder and telling me to be strong.
And I remembered Camila crying beside me.
She had been the one who held me together.
Now I was learning that she might have known something about his final hours.
"Why didn't you tell me?"" I whispered when she was finally strong enough to speak.
Camila was sitting slightly upright in her hospital bed.
The doctors had allowed her to remain awake for longer periods, although she was still weak.
Alejandro stood near the window.
I held the ultrasound photograph in my hand.
"You wrote that there's something you haven't told me about my father's death.""
Camila looked at the photograph.
Then she looked at me.
"Not everything happened the way they told you.""
I pulled my chair closer.
"Tell me.""
She took a slow breath.
"The night your father died, I was at the hospital with him.""
"I know.""
"No, Mateo. I was there before the ambulance arrived.""
I frowned.
"Why?""
"Your father called me.""
I looked at Alejandro.
He remained silent.
Camila continued.
"He said he had discovered something about Esteban. He wanted to speak to you, but he couldn't reach you.""
I remembered that night.
I had been at a business dinner.
My phone had been switched off.
I had returned home after midnight and learned that my father had died.
"Why did he call you?""
"Because he knew I would listen.""
She paused.
"He asked me to come alone.""
I leaned forward.
"What did he tell you?""
"He said Esteban had been stealing money from the company. He also said someone had been using your signature to approve payments.""
My hands tightened around the photograph.
"Did he name anyone else?""
Camila nodded.
"Yes.""
"Who?""
She looked at me.
"Your father's lawyer.""
I felt my stomach drop.
"Dr. Ricardo Méndez?""
"Yes.""
Ricardo had handled our family's legal affairs for more than twenty years.
He had prepared my father's will, overseen the estate, and helped transfer ownership of the company to me.
He was practically family.
"What did he have to do with this?""
Camila closed her eyes briefly.
"Your father believed Ricardo had helped Esteban create the false documents.""
I stood.
"That's impossible.""
"Mateo—"
"Ricardo handled everything after my father's death. He helped us settle the estate.""
"Exactly.""
I turned toward the window.
"You're saying the lawyer who handled my inheritance was involved in stealing it?""
"I'm saying your father suspected him.""
Alejandro finally spoke.
"That's why we need the original records.""
I turned toward him.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because we didn't have enough evidence.""
"Now we do?""
"Not yet.""
Camila reached for my hand.
"Mateo, please listen to me.""
I looked down at her.
"Your father was frightened that night. He told me he had discovered a document that could prove Esteban and Ricardo had been moving money through the company for years.""
"What document?""
"A second trust agreement.""
I stared at her.
"A second one?""
"Yes. The first agreement named your son as the beneficiary. The second contained instructions about what would happen if anyone tried to change the inheritance without authorization.""
I looked at Alejandro.
He nodded slowly.
"That document may be the key to the entire case.""
I turned back to Camila.
"Where is it?""
"I don't know.""
"You found the other records.""
"Because your father told me where to look. But the second agreement wasn't in his office.""
"Where did he keep it?""
Camila hesitated.
Then she said:
"He gave it to me.""
I blinked.
"What?""
"Before he died.""
The room went silent.
I stared at my wife.
"Why would he give you such an important document?""
"Because he trusted me to protect it.""
"Where is it?""
Camila looked toward Alejandro.
He nodded once.
Then she turned back to me.
"At our house.""
I almost laughed.
"Our house?""
"Your father's old study. Behind the wooden panel beneath the bookshelf.""
I remembered the room.
It had remained untouched for years.
I rarely entered it.
The furniture still smelled faintly of my father's cologne. His books were arranged exactly as he had left them.
Camila had asked me several times whether we could turn it into a nursery storage room.
I had refused.
Now I understood why she had been so interested in keeping it intact.
"I need to go home," I said.
Camila immediately shook her head.
"No.""
"I need to find the document.""
"Mateo, someone threatened us tonight.""
"Exactly.""
"That's why you shouldn't go alone.""
Alejandro stepped forward.
"I'll go.""
I turned toward him.
"You're coming with me?""
"Your wife asked me to help protect her son.""
I looked at Camila.
She nodded.
I felt a strange mixture of shame and gratitude.
"All right.""
Before leaving, I approached the bed.
"Camila, I want you to know something.""
She looked at me cautiously.
"I should have answered your calls.""
Her expression didn't change.
"I know.""
"I should have been there.""
"Yes.""
"I can't change what happened.""
"No, Mateo. You can't.""
I swallowed.
"But I want to make things right.""
Camila looked toward the sleeping monitor beside her.
"Then start by protecting our son. Don't make promises you haven't learned how to keep.""
I nodded.
I wanted to kiss her forehead.
Instead, I stepped back.
She wasn't ready.
And I had no right to demand affection from a woman I had abandoned.
The drive to the mansion was silent.
Alejandro sat in the passenger seat.
I drove through the streets of San Pedro, passing the expensive restaurants and illuminated office buildings I once considered proof of my success.
At a traffic light, I finally spoke.
"Why did you come to my house that night?""
Alejandro kept his eyes on the road.
"I told you. I had something for Camila.""
"What?""
"A copy of the original financial records.""
"Why were you bringing them personally?""
"Because I believed someone was monitoring her communications.""
I glanced at him.
"Who?""
"I didn't know.""
"Did you suspect Esteban?""
"Yes. But I also suspected someone inside your security team.""
I thought about the locked gate.
The unanswered calls.
The guards waiting for authorization while my wife lay bleeding on the floor.
"Do you think they deliberately left her there?""
Alejandro turned toward me.
"I don't know.""
I gripped the steering wheel.
"But I intend to find out.""
We reached the mansion shortly before midnight.
The security guards opened the gate immediately.
Too quickly.
I stepped out of the car.
"Where was everyone tonight?""
The supervisor approached.
"Sir, we were following the authorization protocol.""
"My wife was having a medical emergency.""
"We didn't receive confirmation to open the gate.""
"She called for help!""
The man lowered his eyes.
"We apologize, sir.""
I grabbed his uniform.
"Who told you not to let anyone enter?""
"Nobody specifically, sir. It was the standing order.""
"Who issued that order?""
He hesitated.
Then he said:
"Mr. Rivas.""
My blood went cold.
"Esteban?""
"Yes, sir. He reviewed the security instructions last month.""
I released him.
Alejandro was watching me.
"Now do you believe me?""
I didn't answer.
We entered the house.
The marble staircase stood in the center of the foyer.
I stopped at the bottom.
A dark stain remained near the last step.
Someone had cleaned the floor, but a faint reddish mark was still visible between the white veins of the marble.
I stared at it.
Camila had fallen there.
She had called me from that spot.
She had begged me to come.
And I had told her I was busy.
Alejandro touched my shoulder.
"Mateo.""
I looked at him.
"We need to find the document.""
I forced myself to move.
We entered my father's study.
Everything was exactly as I remembered.
The leather chair.
The old wooden desk.
The framed photographs.
A photograph of my father and me stood beside a silver clock.
I picked it up.
I was twenty-three in the picture, smiling beside him after my first successful business deal.
He had looked proud.
I wondered whether he would still have been proud if he knew what I had become.
Alejandro examined the bookshelf.
"Camila said the panel was beneath this?""
"Yes.""
We moved the lower shelf.
Behind it was a narrow wooden panel.
I pressed my fingers against the edges.
It shifted.
A small compartment appeared.
Inside was a black leather folder.
I pulled it out.
My hands were shaking.
The folder contained the second trust agreement, several original bank records, and a sealed letter.
The envelope had my father's handwriting.
For Mateo, only when the truth can no longer be hidden.
I opened it.
The first paragraph made me sit down.
My son,
If this letter has reached you, then I have failed to protect you from the people I allowed into our family.
There is something you must understand about the money.
Esteban did not act alone.
I stopped reading.
Alejandro leaned over my shoulder.
I continued.
Ricardo Méndez helped create the false documents. But the person who approved the final transfer was someone I trusted more than either of them.
My eyes moved to the next line.
Someone inside our family.
I looked up.
"Who?""
Alejandro took the letter.
His eyes moved rapidly across the page.
Then he stopped.
His face went pale.
"What?"" I demanded.
He slowly handed it back.
At the bottom of the letter was a name.
A name I had not expected to see.
My father's younger sister.
Isabella Villarreal.
My aunt.
The woman who had helped raise me after my mother died.
The woman who had attended every family celebration.
The woman who had kissed my newborn son's ultrasound photograph when Camila first showed it to her.
I stared at the page.
"This can't be right.""
Alejandro opened the trust agreement.
"Mateo, look at the witness signatures.""
I examined the final page.
There were three signatures.
My father's.
Ricardo Méndez's.
And Isabella's.
Then I noticed something else.
The agreement had been amended three months ago.
The same period when Camila began investigating.
The same period when someone redirected our son's inheritance.
I read the new beneficiary designation.
My eyes widened.
The twenty-eight-million-dollar trust had not been transferred to another family member.
It had been assigned to a company registered under a name I recognized.
Valeria Montes Holdings.
My mistress.
I felt the room spin.
"Why is Valeria's company listed here?""
Alejandro stared at the document.
Then he turned toward me.
"Because someone planned to use your affair against you.""
Before I could respond, my phone rang.
Valeria.
I answered.
"Where are you?"" I demanded.
Her voice was shaking.
"Mateo, thank God.""
"What's happening?""
"Your aunt is here.""
I looked at Alejandro.
Valeria continued.
"She says she has something important to tell me about the baby.""
My heart stopped.
"Don't let her touch anything. Don't sign anything. Do you understand?""
There was a pause.
Then Valeria whispered:
"Mateo, I think I've made a terrible mistake.""
"What did you do?""
"I signed something.""
I gripped the phone.
"What did you sign?""
Her answer came in a terrified whisper.
"A document saying I'm the legal guardian of your son if Camila dies.""
I stared at the black leather folder.
Then Valeria said the words that made my blood run cold.
"Your aunt told me the baby wasn't supposed to survive tonight.""
And suddenly, I understood.
May you like
The missing money was never the only secret.
Someone had been planning for my son to disappear before he was even born.
