Chapter 5: What Valeria Didn't Know
Valeria waited until two in the afternoon before she stopped expecting him to come back.
She ordered room service.
She showered.
She sat on the edge of the hotel bed and scrolled through her phone and told herself this was just Mateo managing a crisis, that he would call when it was handled, that Camila was a temporary complication and not a permanent obstacle.
Then her phone rang.
It was not Mateo.
It was a number she didn't recognize, and she almost didn't answer.
But something made her pick up.
"Ms.
Rios." A woman's voice.
Crisp and professional.
"My name is Andrea Salinas.
I'm a journalist with Monterrey Negocios.
I'm calling because we're running a story tomorrow morning about the Vega family.
I wanted to give you an opportunity to comment before publication."
Valeria sat up straighter.
"What story?"
"The story concerns last night's medical emergency involving Camila Vega, née Montoya.
It also concerns the circumstances that prevented her husband from responding to her calls." A brief pause.
"We have the call log.
We have the club's security footage from last night.
We have a statement from two of the other guests at the VIP table." Another pause.
"And we have several photographs."
Valeria's mouth went dry.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Ms.
Rios, I'm not trying to ambush you.
I'm giving you a chance to speak before the story runs.
Would you like to comment on the nature of your relationship with Mateo Vega?"
"No comment," Valeria said, and ended the call.
She sat there for a moment.
Then she called Mateo.
He picked up on the second ring.
"A journalist just called me," she said, keeping her voice low and steady.
"Someone named Salinas.
From Monterrey Negocios.
She has photos, Mateo.
She has the security footage from last night."
Silence on his end.
"Mateo."
"I heard you."
"What are we going to do?"
"I don't know yet."
"What do you mean you don't know?
This comes out tomorrow morning.
Your wife is in the hospital.
You were in a hotel with me.
This is going to—" She stopped herself.
"Mateo, you need to fix this."
"I'm at the hospital."
"I know where you are." Her voice sharpened.
"I'm asking what you're going to do about the story."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
"Valeria." His voice was different now.
Quieter.
Careful in a way that made her stomach drop.
"I need you to not call me for a few days."
She went very still.
"What?"
"Just for a few days.
Until I understand what's happening."
"You're asking me to disappear."
"I'm asking you to be patient."
"Mateo." She stood up from the bed.
"If you think I am going to sit in a hotel room while you manage your wife and your lawyers and your press problem and pretend I don't exist—"
"That's not what I'm saying."
"Then what are you saying?
Because it sounds like you're saying that last night meant nothing.
That I'm the part of this you're willing to cut off first."
He didn't answer immediately.
And the silence was its own answer.
"I'll call you in a few days," he said.
The call ended.
Valeria stood in the middle of the hotel room for a long moment.
Then she sat back down on the bed, very slowly, and looked at her own reflection in the dark screen of her phone.
She had spent two years believing she was the one he chose.
She picked up her phone again.
This time she didn't call Mateo.
She called the journalist back.
"Ms.
Salinas," she said when the woman answered.
May you like
"I've reconsidered.
I'd like to talk."
