Chapter 1: The Seventeenth Call
The music was so loud inside the private club in San Pedro Garza García that Mateo Valdés could barely hear his own thoughts.
Not that he wanted to.
Thinking required honesty.
And honesty was the one thing Mateo had spent the last year avoiding.
The VIP room glowed beneath blue and purple lights. Crystal bottles covered the table. Men who wanted his approval laughed at every joke he made. Women who knew his name looked at him like he was someone important.
On his lap sat Valeria Cruz, the woman who had convinced him that he deserved a different life.
A more exciting life.
A life without responsibility.
"You look happy tonight," Valeria whispered, tracing a finger along the expensive watch on his wrist.
Mateo smiled.
"I am.""
She leaned closer.
"Really?""
Mateo looked around the room.
His friends. His money. His reputation.
Everything he had spent years chasing.
"More than I have been in a long time.""
Valeria smiled proudly.
Then the phone on the glass table lit up.
Wife.
Mateo's expression changed for only a second.
Camila.
Again.
The screen showed the same name he had ignored nine times already.
Valeria noticed.
"Seriously?"" she asked.
Mateo picked up his drink instead of the phone.
"What?""
"She keeps calling.""
"So?""
Her smile disappeared.
"Mateo, she's your wife. She's eight months pregnant.""
His friend Rodrigo laughed from across the table.
"Bro, don't ruin the mood. Pregnant women call for everything.""
Everyone laughed.
Mateo joined them.
Because that was easier than admitting the truth.
He knew Camila never called repeatedly without a reason.
She wasn't dramatic.
She wasn't needy.
She was the woman who remembered every appointment, every bill, every family birthday. The woman who had stood beside him when he had nothing except ambition and a broken car.
But lately, remembering that made him uncomfortable.
Because Camila represented the man he used to be.
And Mateo preferred the man he had become.
Valeria looked at the phone again.
"It's still ringing.""
Mateo grabbed it.
The tenth call.
He stared at her name.
For a moment, something inside him hesitated.
Then Valeria touched his arm.
"Don't let her control your night.""
That was all it took.
Mateo pressed decline.
"She's just being dramatic.""
Rodrigo raised his glass.
"That's the spirit.""
Mateo placed the phone down.
"You know how women get when they're pregnant. Emotional about everything.""
He laughed.
"She probably wants tacos at midnight or wants me to rub her swollen feet.""
Valeria laughed softly.
"So needy.""
Mateo switched his phone to airplane mode.
The screen went dark.
He felt relief.
Then he lifted his glass.
"To my last night of freedom before becoming a father.""
The room erupted.
Glasses hit the table.
Music shook the walls.
Nobody noticed that somewhere far away, another phone was lying broken on a marble floor.
Nobody noticed a woman whispering Mateo's name through tears.
Camila Valdés had always loved quiet houses.
That was why she had hated Mateo's mansion at first.
It was beautiful.
Too beautiful.
Cold marble floors. Tall ceilings. Huge empty rooms.
A house built to impress strangers.
Not comfort a family.
But she had tried.
For Mateo.
For their baby.
That night, she had woken up thirsty.
The doctor had warned her about dizziness during pregnancy. She had laughed when Mateo told her to be careful.
"I know how to walk," she had teased.
He had kissed her forehead.
"I just worry about you.""
That memory hurt now.
Because the man who once worried about her was nowhere to be found.
Camila held onto the staircase railing.
One hand on her stomach.
One step.
Then another.
The world suddenly tilted.
Her fingers slipped.
Her foot missed the edge.
And everything disappeared.
The sound of her body hitting the marble floor echoed through the mansion.
For several seconds, she couldn't understand what happened.
Then pain arrived.
Sharp.
Impossible.
She tried to breathe.
Her hand moved toward her stomach.
The baby.
Her baby.
"No..."" she whispered.
Her phone was nearby.
The screen was cracked.
She reached for it with trembling fingers.
Mateo.
Call.
The first attempt.
No answer.
Second.
Third.
Fifth.
By the tenth call, tears were running down her face.
"Please...""
The eleventh.
Twelfth.
Thirteenth.
Nothing.
The mansion remained silent.
Her vision blurred.
She looked toward the front door.
Too far.
The security gate was locked.
The staff had gone home.
She was alone.
The seventeenth call went directly to voicemail.
Camila closed her eyes.
Then she saw a name in her contacts.
A name she hadn't touched in years.
Alejandro Ruiz.
Mateo's former best friend.
The man Mateo had once called his brother.
The same man Mateo had destroyed after jealousy poisoned their friendship.
Alejandro had built a business empire bigger than Mateo's dreams.
And Mateo hated him for it.
Especially because Alejandro had always treated Camila with respect.
Mateo had once said:
"Stay away from him. I know the way men think.""
Camila had obeyed.
Until tonight.
Her finger hovered over the name.
Then she pressed call.
One ring.
Two.
A voice answered.
"Camila?""
She froze.
Alejandro sounded immediately awake.
"Camila, what's wrong?""
Her voice broke.
"I fell...""
Silence.
"I fell down the stairs.""
Alejandro stood up so quickly his chair fell behind him.
"Where are you?""
"My house.""
"Are you bleeding?""
She couldn't answer.
That was enough.
"CAMILA, LISTEN TO ME.""
His voice became firm.
"Stay awake. Do you hear me?""
She cried.
"Mateo won't answer.""
Alejandro stopped.
Only for a second.
Then anger replaced shock.
"I'm coming.""
"Don't...""
"I'm coming.""
"The baby...""
"I'll get you help.""
Her fingers loosened around the phone.
"Please hurry.""
"I promise.""
The last thing Camila heard before darkness took her was Alejandro saying her name.
Not as an obligation.
Not as an annoyance.
As if her life mattered.
May you like
Three hours later, Mateo was still drinking.
And he had no idea that his entire world had already started collapsing.
