CHAPTER 6 – THE WOMAN I MARRIED
The laboratory results arrived twenty-four hours later.
The tablets contained a powerful sedative.
Not usually lethal in small amounts.
But dangerous when mixed with alcohol.
And capable of causing confusion, memory problems, dizziness, and collapse.
I remembered every unexplained headache.
Every morning I had awakened exhausted.
Every evening Beatriz had poured my wine.
The betrayal became physical.
I could almost taste it.
Inspector Ortega obtained warrants.
Bank accounts were frozen.
Cruz Holdings was searched.
Alejandro disappeared.
So had Beatriz.
But fugitives make mistakes.
Especially wealthy ones.
They believe money makes them invisible.
It doesn't.
It only makes their footprints more expensive.
Three days later, police traced a €9,000 payment at a private marina near Cádiz.
A yacht had departed hours earlier.
Destination unknown.
Ortega believed they were heading toward Morocco.
But Elena found something more important.
The forged power of attorney wasn't their only document.
There was also a draft agreement transferring controlling interest in three of my companies.
The transfer required my signature.
“They needed you conscious enough to sign,” Elena explained.
“Then incapacitated afterward.”
“Yes.”
“And Isabella?”
Elena looked toward the window.
“She was a problem.”
Those words made my stomach twist.
“A problem how?”
“She inherits everything if you die.”
I stared at her.
“Under your current estate plan, yes.”
Suddenly every cruel thing Beatriz had done looked different.
Not less monstrous.
More.
She wasn't simply punishing Isabella.
She was breaking her.
Making her afraid.
Making her obedient.
Possibly preparing her for something worse.
I went into Isabella's room.
She was drawing.
A house.
Two people.
Me and her.
No Beatriz.
“Can I sit?”
She nodded.
I sat beside her.
“Sweetheart, I need to ask you something.”
Her pencil stopped.
“Did Beatriz ever make you sign papers?”
Her face changed.
“Yes.”
My heart sank.
“What papers?”
“I don't know.”
“When?”
“A lot.”
“What did she say they were?”
“School things.”
“Did she tell you what to write?”
“My name.”
“Anything else?”
She nodded.
“Sometimes she made me copy your name.”
I closed my eyes.
My signature.
She had used my daughter to practice forging it.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Am I in trouble?”
I immediately knelt beside her.
“No.”
“Because I wrote your name.”
“No.”
“She said it was a game.”
“You did nothing wrong.”
She looked uncertain.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Then she whispered.
“There's one more thing.”
“What?”
“She made videos.”
My stomach tightened.
“What kind of videos?”
“She told me to say things.”
“What things?”
“That you yelled at me.”
I couldn't breathe.
“She made you say I hurt you?”
Isabella nodded.
“She said if I didn't say it right, I couldn't eat dinner.”
I stood.
The plan became horrifyingly clear.
Beatriz wasn't just preparing to steal my company.
She was building a story.
Daniel Navarro.
Unstable businessman.
Abusive father.
Medical problems.
Potentially dangerous.
Remove him from control.
Remove Isabella from him.
Control the child.
Control the inheritance.
Control everything.
Then my phone rang.
Inspector Ortega.
“We found Alejandro.”
“Where?”
“Cádiz.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“And Beatriz?”
A pause.
“No.”
“What happened?”
“We caught Cruz at the marina.”
“He was alone.”
“Where is she?”
“He says he doesn't know.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
“Daniel.”
Something in Ortega's voice changed.
“What?”
“Cruz is talking.”
I waited.
“And he says Beatriz wasn't following his plan.”
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“What does that mean?”
“He says the entire operation was hers.”
