Chapter 6 - THE PRICE OF A CHILD
I watched the video twice.
Then deleted the idea of obeying him from my mind.
“We're not bringing Isabella anywhere.”
Mateo nodded.
“Obviously.”
“Trace it.”
“Working on it.”
I showed the video to police.
The kidnapping changed everything.
This was no longer family sabotage hidden behind forged signatures.
Alejandro had exposed himself.
But desperate men are dangerous.
Especially when they believe they've already lost.
Isabella knew something was wrong.
“Is Mr. Javier okay?”
I didn't lie.
“We're trying to help him.”
“Did Beatriz hurt him?”
“Someone else did.”
She stared at me.
“Uncle Alejandro?”
My head snapped up.
“How do you know?”
She looked frightened.
“He came to the house.”
“When?”
“Twice.”
Nobody had told me.
“What did he say?”
“He said he was your brother.”
“What else?”
Isabella picked at the edge of her sleeve.
“He asked if I knew who my real daddy was.”
My stomach twisted.
“What did you say?”
“You.”
I swallowed.
“Then what?”
“He laughed.”
She looked confused.
“He said one day I'd learn the truth.”
I hugged her.
“You already know the truth.”
That night, Mateo traced Alejandro's video to an abandoned property near Ronda.
Police surrounded it before dawn.
They found Javier.
Alive.
Alejandro was gone.
Javier had two broken ribs and severe dehydration.
But he could speak.
He told investigators Alejandro had been meeting Beatriz for months.
Then he revealed why he had been fired.
“I saw them burying something.”
“What?”
“A box.”
“Where?”
“Your property.”
I leaned closer.
“Where?”
“Near the old olive grove.”
Police searched that afternoon.
Three feet beneath the soil, they found a metal case.
Inside were passports.
Cash.
Prepaid phones.
Copies of my signature.
And photographs.
Hundreds.
Pictures of Isabella.
At school.
At dance practice.
Sleeping near the pool.
Playing in the garden.
Someone had been documenting my daughter's life.
Then we found photographs of me.
Driving.
Walking into meetings.
Boarding planes.
The conspiracy hadn't begun when I went to Dubai.
It had been running for more than a year.
At the bottom of the case was a folder labeled PHASE THREE.
Inside was my death certificate.
Unsigned.
Blank date.
Prepared in advance.
Mateo stared at it.
“This was never just about controlling Isabella.”
“No.”
I looked at the document.
“They planned to kill me.”
“And make Beatriz guardian.”
“Then Alejandro controls Beatriz.”
Mateo nodded.
That evening, Beatriz requested to speak with me from custody.
I almost refused.
Then she said she knew where Alejandro would go.
So I went.
She looked different without expensive clothes and makeup.
Smaller.
But I felt no sympathy.
“Where is he?”
“I want a deal.”
“You don't have anything I want.”
“I know where he'll go.”
“Tell police.”
“I'll tell you.”
I stood.
She panicked.
“Wait.”
I turned.
“There's something about Isabella.”
My blood cooled.
“What?”
“Something Alejandro doesn't know I kept.”
She leaned forward.
“A recording.”
“Of what?”
“The night he admitted what he actually planned to do with her after you died.”
I sat down.
Beatriz looked straight into my eyes.
“He was never going to raise Isabella.”
“What was he going to do?”
May you like
Her voice dropped.
“Make her disappear.”
