Chapter 1: The First Daughter
"My brother’s girlfriend sl@pped me when I was only three years old and warned me, “Stop clinging to him.
He’s mine.” I stayed silent.
My brother didn’t confront her either—he simply asked to review the living room camera.
When the footage showed exactly what she had done, no one could have imagined that recording would awaken a family legacy that had been waiting nine generations for a baby girl.
Part 1
“So you’re the little brat who won't leave my boyfriend alone?”
I was just three years old when my older brother’s girlfriend grabbed me by the chin and sl@pped me so hard I tumbled sideways onto the living room rug.
What she didn't know was that for nine generations, the Mendoza family had produced nearly all boys.
I was the first girl born into the family in more than a century.
When I was born, my grandfather, Ernesto, was in the hospital recovering from a major heart procedure.
My dad always told the story of how, the second the doctor called to say, ""It's a girl,"" the old man ripped off his oxygen mask and started laughing so loud the nurses thought he’d gained another twenty years of life.
My mom had small diamond studs placed in my ears before we even left the hospital.
My dad set up a trust fund for my education before I could crawl.
My uncles filled the house with pink flowers, and my older male cousins constantly argued over who got to hold me first.
But no one doted on me more than my eldest brother, Santiago.
He was twenty-six, sharp, and served as the chief operating officer for our family’s logistics firm in San Antonio.
To the rest of the world, Santiago was serious, reserved, and notoriously difficult to impress.
To me, he was the giant who fed me dinner spoon by spoon, tied my hair into awful little pigtails, and made up silly bedtime stories until I fell asleep.
He always said, “Valentina is my only weakness.”
I believed him.
So that Saturday afternoon, I was thrilled when he kneeled down and told me, “Vale, someone really important to me is coming over today.
Her name is Fernanda.”
Fernanda arrived shortly after noon.
She was tall, elegant, wore heavy perfume, and walked in high heels that clicked loudly across our hardwood floors.
I was lying flat on my stomach on the rug, drawing a pink dolphin with my crayons.
“Hi, Fer!” I chirped, just like Santiago had taught me to greet guests.
She hardly spared me a glance, giving a tight, fake smile.
A moment later, Santiago’s work phone buzzed.
“It’s the regional office,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
“Give me five minutes, Vale.
I’ll be right back.”
The moment the double doors to his home office clicked shut, the loud clicking of heels moved toward me.
Fernanda crouched down in front of me.
For a second, I thought she wanted to see my dolphin drawing.
Instead, her sharp, manicured nails dug into my chin, squeezing hard.
“So you’re her,” she sneered, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper.
My chin hurt.
“Me?”
“The little princess who pops up in all his photos.
The one clinging to his neck.
The one who makes him cancel dinner dates with me.”
I didn't understand.
“Santi is my big brother.”
Fernanda let out a cold, bitter laugh.
“Right.
That’s what they say online.
‘The Mendoza princess.’ Who knows who you actually are?
Your mother probably cleans this place and they let you play pretend rich girl.”
“My mommy is my mommy—”
“Don't play dumb with me.” Her grip tightened until tears welled in my eyes.
“It hurts,” I whimpered.
“Well, learn now: Santiago has a life, and you’re not going to be attached to his hip forever.”
Then her hand whipped back.
SL@P!
The sharp crack echoed through the quiet room, and I h*t the rug hard.
I didn't feel pain first.
I felt a ringing noise inside my ear, shock, and then a burning heat spreading across my left cheek.
I opened my mouth to cry out, but Fernanda instantly covered my lips with her hand, pressing me down.
“Don't you dare scream for him.”
I kicked my feet in sheer panic.
My wooden toy castle beside the sofa toppled over, crashing to the floor with a loud racket.
Fernanda instantly stood up, smoothed her designer dress, adjusted her hair, and casually sat back down on the sofa as if nothing had happened.
“If you say a word, no one will believe a toddler anyway.”
I curled into a tight ball behind the couch, shaking silently.
When Santiago stepped out of his office, he found me huddled on the floor, my face smeared with tears and crayon wax.
“Vale?”
He rushed over, dropping to his knees.
He tried to gently stroke my cheek, but I flinched away.
Carefully, he brushed my hair aside.
Five bright red finger marks were blooming across my three-year-old cheek.
My brother’s face completely transformed.
The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by a glacial, terrifying darkness.
Fernanda quickly stood up, putting on a panicked expression.
“She fell while playing!
I tried to catch her, but—”
Santiago didn't even turn his head toward her.
“Valentina,” he said softly, his voice trembling with controlled rage.
“Tell me who h*t you.”
I looked at Fernanda.
She was staring at me in silence, her eyes signaling her warning.
I shook my head, terrified.
“Nobody...”
Santiago closed his eyes for three long seconds.
Then he stood up to his full height.
“Ramiro.”
Our head of home security appeared at the hallway entrance within seconds.
“Sir?”
“Pull the living room security feed,” Santiago commanded, his voice d*ad calm.
“From the exact minute I stepped into my office.”
For the first time, all the color drained from Fernanda’s face.
“Santiago, are you seriously reviewing security footage over a clumsy kid falling?”
My brother finally turned his eyes on her.
“Yes.”
Five minutes later, the high-definition video loaded onto a tablet.
In complete, horrifying clarity, we all watched Fernanda approach me.
Grab my chin.
Raise her hand.
Deliver a full-force sl@p.
Cover my mouth as I struggled to breathe.
A suffocating silence fell over the room.
Santiago set the tablet down on the glass table with extreme care.
Then he looked up at her.
“You just str*ck a three-year-old child in my home.”
Fernanda swallowed hard, her confidence crumbling.
“I...
I didn't realize she was actually your real sister!”
My brother let out a cold, terrifying laugh I had never heard before.
“That doesn't make it better.”
And what happened next made Fernanda realize that single sl@p was about to destroy her entire life..."
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How far will Santiago go to protect Valentina—and what will Fernanda do next?
Comment “NEXT” for Part 2.
