Chapter 3 - The Conspiracy Unravels"Get the key, Mother," Alejandro said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low whisper.
"Don't be ridiculous, Alejandro. She is hysterical. Go to work, let the family doctors handle—"
"I said, GET THE KEY!" he roared, slamming his fist against the nightstand.
Esther flinched, a flicker of genuine fear crossing her eyes before she masked it with cold indifference. "Marcela has the key. And she is currently at the family gallery in Coyoacán... clearing out the rest of your wife’s 'worthless' things."
Alejandro didn't wait. He used a heavy metal golf club from his closet to smash the iron link on the bedframe, freeing Valeria from the bed, though the heavy chain remained locked to her ankle. He lifted his wife gently into his arms, ignoring her groans of pain, and carried her downstairs past the staring, silent housekeepers. He drove her straight to a private hospital owned by a trusted friend, far away from the Aranda family doctors.
May you like
As the doctors rushed Valeria into emergency care to treat her chemical burns, Alejandro sat in the waiting room, his mind racing. He pulled up the photo Marcela had sent him. Zooming in past the silhouette, he noticed something he had missed before: the man was carrying a distinctive, antique leather trunk out of the estate's guest house.
That trunk belonged to Valeria’s late father—an art restorer who had died under mysterious circumstances right before Alejandro and Valeria met.
