Chapter 12 - THE DEBT FROM TWENTY YEARS AGO
The past was no longer past.
It had been sitting across from me at breakfast for four years.
We found old court records.
Carmen’s father, Arturo Vela, had invested nearly eight million euros into a development venture led by Sofia’s father.
The venture collapsed.
Money vanished.
Arturo was blamed.
He lost his company.
His home.
His reputation.
Months later, he died.
Officially, heart failure.
Carmen spent twenty years believing Sofia’s family had destroyed hers.
But financial files from the old case revealed something strange.
The missing money had been transferred to a company controlled by a fourth partner.
Eduardo Reyes.
That name meant nothing to me.
Until Adrian searched corporate records.
Eduardo Reyes had died twelve years earlier.
His daughter had inherited his remaining assets.
Her name was Beatriz Reyes.
Beatriz Alvarez.
My wife.
I stared at the screen.
“She knew.”
Adrian nodded.
“Her father stole the money.”
“And Carmen blamed Sofia’s family.”
“Yes.”
“Beatriz let her.”
“Apparently.”
Everything became uglier.
Beatriz hadn’t joined Carmen because they shared a grievance.
She had used Carmen’s grievance.
For years.
Maybe since they were young.
By afternoon, police had enough to arrest Beatriz for fraud-related offenses and suspected conspiracy.
But she was gone.
Her lawyer claimed not to know where.
The rental house she had been using was empty.
Car abandoned.
Phone left behind.
Carmen was still missing too.
Two women.
One network.
One frightened child.
Then my office manager called.
“Mateo, someone accessed the villa’s architectural plans.”
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Which plans?”
“The original ones.”
“What does that mean?”
He hesitated.
“The sections built before the renovation.”
My father constructed the Marbella villa thirty years earlier.
It had old service corridors.
Storage rooms.
A wine cellar.
And one small underground room I had sealed during renovations.
Almost no one knew it existed.
Except family.
I called Rosa.
“Where is Isabella?”
“In the music room.”
“Keep her there.”
I drove back immediately.
When I arrived, the front gate was open.
The security guard was unconscious but breathing.
The villa alarm had been disabled.
Rosa stood in the entrance hall, crying.
“She was right here.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
“Isabella.”
“Where is she?”
“I turned away for less than a minute.”
Rosa grabbed my arm.
“I’m sorry.”
On the floor beside the piano lay Isabella’s silver bracelet.
And underneath it was a folded note.
Mateo.
May you like
You wanted the truth.
Come find it where Sofia hid hers.
