Chapter 4 - THE ACCIDENT
The next morning, Beatriz wanted me to drive into Málaga.
That alone told me enough.
“Why?”
“I booked lunch.”
“With who?”
“Just us.”
She smiled.
“You've been gone three months.”
I smiled back.
“Sounds perfect.”
Mateo had already inspected my vehicles.
At 9:20 a.m., he texted me.
DO NOT DRIVE THE RANGE ROVER.
I walked into the garage.
Beatriz followed.
“You're taking that one?”
“Why not?”
She stopped.
For half a second.
Then shrugged.
“No reason.”
I opened the driver's door.
My phone rang.
Mateo.
I answered casually.
“Yeah?”
“Brake line.”
Two words.
I looked at Beatriz.
She was pretending to check her phone.
“Confirmed?”
“Cut almost completely through.”
I closed the vehicle door.
Beatriz looked up.
“Problem?”
“Work.”
I smiled.
“Let's take your car.”
Her face changed.
“My car?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I stepped closer.
“Is something wrong with it?”
“No.”
“Then let's go.”
She scrambled.
“I actually need to stop somewhere afterward.”
I laughed.
“Beatriz, relax.”
She didn't.
We drove to Málaga in her Mercedes.
Lunch was painfully normal.
She talked about wedding plans.
We were supposed to marry in six weeks.
I listened while wondering whether she had expected me to die that morning.
Finally, she asked, “Where is Isabella?”
“Safe.”
Her fork stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“It means she's with people I trust.”
Her eyes hardened.
“Do you not trust me?”
I smiled.
“Shouldn't I?”
For the first time, the mask slipped.
Only slightly.
Then it returned.
“Of course.”
When we returned home, police were waiting.
Beatriz stopped.
“What happened?”
I acted confused.
One officer explained that someone had tampered with my Range Rover.
Beatriz's performance was remarkable.
She covered her mouth.
“Oh my God.”
She grabbed my arm.
“Daniel, someone tried to kill you.”
I looked at her.
“Apparently.”
“Who would do something like that?”
“I intend to find out.”
Her eyes met mine.
For just one second, we both knew.
That night, police removed the vehicle.
Mateo had already ensured forensic evidence would be preserved.
At midnight, another discovery arrived.
The fingerprints on the garage tool cabinet didn't belong to Beatriz.
They belonged to our driver.
Luis.
Police arrested him.
He confessed within hours.
But he claimed Beatriz had nothing to do with it.
“Alejandro paid me,” he said.
That was enough to bring my brother into the investigation.
But Alejandro disappeared before police reached his villa.
Beatriz became nervous.
Very nervous.
At 3:00 a.m., I found her packing.
“Going somewhere?”
She jumped.
“No.”
I looked at the suitcase.
“Interesting.”
“My mother is sick.”
“Your mother died twelve years ago.”
Silence.
The mask finally fell.
“You've been spying on me.”
“I've been learning.”
She stared.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
She backed toward the dresser.
“Where is Isabella?”
“Somewhere you will never touch her again.”
Her face changed.
“You think this is about that spoiled little girl?”
I stepped forward.
“Choose your next words carefully.”
She laughed.
“You really don't know anything.”
“What don't I know?”
“You think Alejandro wants your company?”
“He does.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He wants revenge.”
“For what?”
“For Elena.”
The room went silent.
My dead wife's name hung between us.
“What does Elena have to do with my brother?”
Beatriz smiled.
“You never knew?”
“Knew what?”
She picked up her purse.
“Elena and Alejandro knew each other before she met you.”
I stared at her.
“What are you saying?”
“Ask yourself why your brother hates you so much.”
I grabbed her arm before she could leave.
“Tell me.”
She looked at my hand.
“Let go.”
“Tell me.”
May you like
Then she whispered the sentence that cracked open everything I believed about my family.
“Alejandro thinks Isabella is his daughter.”
