Chapter 6 - THE SAFE BEHIND THE PAINTING
There was a private safe behind a painting in my office.
Beatriz knew about it.
She did not know there was a second compartment beneath the main tray.
I opened the safe.
The passports were still there.
Property documents were untouched.
Emergency cash remained sealed.
But three folders had been moved.
I knew because I placed documents in exact order.
Beatriz used to tease me about it.
Now that habit mattered.
I checked the folders.
One contained shareholder agreements.
Another held trust documents.
The third contained copies of Isabella’s inheritance structure.
My father had created the trust before his death.
Isabella would eventually inherit a significant minority interest in several family properties.
Until she reached adulthood, I controlled it.
Beatriz had no authority over the trust.
I opened the hidden compartment.
Inside was a small security sensor.
It recorded every time the safe opened.
Four unauthorized openings had occurred while I was in Dubai.
I called my attorney, Elena Marquez.
“I need you at the villa.”
She heard something in my voice.
“How serious?”
“Very.”
“Family or business?”
“Both.”
She arrived ninety minutes later.
I showed her the security footage.
The chore sheets.
The blocked calls from Rosa.
The recordings involving Lucas.
Then I showed her the trust documents.
Elena read them slowly.
“Why would Beatriz be interested in Isabella’s trust?”
“That’s what I want to know.”
She looked at me.
“You need to stop thinking like a husband.”
“I already have.”
“Good.”
Her expression hardened.
“Because if someone is trying to change ownership structures using access they shouldn’t have, this may get ugly.”
We searched my office carefully.
Behind a stack of tax files, Elena found an envelope.
Inside were photocopies of my signature.
Some were enlarged.
Some had tracing marks.
One sheet showed my signature repeated eleven times.
Elena stared at it.
“This isn’t innocent.”
I heard movement outside the office.
The door handle turned.
It was locked.
Beatriz knocked.
“What are you doing in there?”
Elena and I looked at each other.
I slid the papers into a folder.
Beatriz knocked again.
I opened the door.
She froze when she saw Elena.
My attorney smiled politely.
“Good afternoon, Beatriz.”
Beatriz looked at me.
May you like
Then at the folder in Elena’s hands.
And for the first time, she understood that whatever plan she had built while I was in Dubai was beginning to collapse.
