Chapter 2: The Door She Thought Was Locked
I brought Isabella inside and sat her at the kitchen table.
I ran cold water over her hands.
She winced but didn't make a sound.
That silence was the worst part.
Beatriz stood in the doorway, watching.
"You're overreacting," she said.
"They're just blisters."
I didn't look up.
"How long has this been going on?"
"It was one afternoon—"
"Isabella." I kept my voice gentle.
"How long?"
My daughter stared at the table.
Her fingers curled inward.
"Since you left for Dubai," she whispered.
Three months.
I stood up slowly.
Beatriz took one step back.
"I want to show you something," I said.
"Come with me."
I led her to my office and closed the door.
Then I opened my laptop and turned the screen toward her.
Our villa had a security system.
Twelve cameras.
Motion-activated.
Cloud storage going back ninety days.
Beatriz looked at the screen.
Then she looked at me.
Her face went completely still.
"How much did you see?" she asked quietly.
"Enough."
She was silent for a long moment.
Then something shifted in her expression.
Not guilt.
Not shame.
Calculation.
"You won't use that," she said.
"Not if you want to keep this quiet."
"Keep what quiet?"
She smiled.
Slowly.
Like a door opening onto something much darker than I expected.
"There are things about this family," she said, "that you don't know yet."
---
What secret is Beatriz hiding — and why does she think it gives her power over him?
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What Isabella told her father next made the whole truth even more devastating.
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