Chapter 3
I did not confront Beatriz that night.
Not fully.
I wanted evidence preserved first.
I wanted Isabella medically safe.
I wanted every staff member questioned before Beatriz could threaten them again.
I had learned enough from business to know that powerful lies survive through confusion.
So I removed confusion.
Rafael collected every camera file.
Dr. Molina sent the medical report directly to my attorney, Sofia Herrera.
Lucia and Marta stayed with Isabella.
I slept on a chair outside my daughter’s door.
Slept was too generous.
I listened.
Every time Isabella moved, I opened my eyes.
At two in the morning, she cried out in her sleep.
“No, I’ll finish it.”
I entered quietly.
She was tangled in the blanket, sweating.
I sat beside her and touched her hair.
“Isabella. It’s Dad.”
Her eyes opened.
For one second, fear.
Then recognition.
She threw herself into my arms.
I held her as she shook.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For being bad.”
I closed my eyes.
“You are not bad.”
“She said I make everyone unhappy.”
“She lied.”
“She said you were happier in Dubai.”
That one broke something inside me.
I pulled back so she could see my face.
“Listen to me. There is no building, no hotel, no city, no amount of money in this world that matters more than you.”
Her lips trembled.
“But you stayed away so long.”
The truth hit.
Because she was right.
I had video calls.
I had gifts delivered.
I had sent voice messages.
But I had not been there.
“I should have come home sooner,” I said. “That is my mistake. Not yours.”
She looked down at her bandaged hands.
“Will she be angry tomorrow?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she will not be here tomorrow.”
Isabella stared at me.
“You can make her leave?”
“Yes.”
“But she said this is her villa now.”
I went still.
“What else did she say?”
Isabella hesitated.
“She said when you signed the papers, she became in charge of me.”
“What papers?”
“I don’t know.”
I kissed her forehead.
“Sleep now. I will find out.”
I left her with Lucia and went straight to my office.
My safe was behind a wall panel.
Inside were personal documents, property deeds, trust papers for Isabella, and Elena’s letters.
The safe opened with my fingerprint.
Nothing looked disturbed.
But when I checked the folders, one envelope was missing.
The guardianship documents.
My heart began to pound.
After Elena died, Sofia helped me create a trust for Isabella.
If something happened to me, my sister Clara would become Isabella’s guardian.
Not Beatriz.
Never Beatriz.
I had told Beatriz that before we married.
She had smiled and said she understood.
Now the envelope was gone.
I called Sofia at three in the morning.
She answered on the fifth ring, voice thick with sleep.
“Alonso?”
“I need you at the villa at sunrise.”
“What happened?”
“My wife has been abusing Isabella. I have evidence. And the guardianship envelope is missing.”
Her voice changed instantly.
“Do not let Beatriz leave with any documents.”
“She is in the guest wing.”
“Secure her access to office systems. Freeze shared accounts. I am coming.”
By six, Sofia was at my gate.
By seven, she had reviewed enough footage to call child protection authorities herself.
By eight, two officers arrived with a child welfare investigator.
Beatriz appeared in the entry hall wearing cream linen and diamonds.
She looked composed.
Too composed.
“What is this?” she asked.
Sofia answered before I could.
“An investigation.”
Beatriz laughed lightly.
“Into what?”
I stepped forward.
“Into what you did to my daughter.”
Her eyes moved to the officers.
She softened her face.
“This is a misunderstanding. Isabella has always struggled with grief. She invents things.”
The investigator, a woman named Ana, looked at me.
“Where is the child?”
“With my staff and doctor.”
Beatriz quickly said, “She should not be questioned without me.”
Ana looked at her.
“Are you the child’s legal parent?”
Beatriz paused.
“I am her stepmother.”
“Then no.”
The word cut through the hall like a blade.
Beatriz’s smile disappeared.
The officers asked her to remain available.
Sofia requested that Beatriz leave the premises voluntarily pending the investigation.
Beatriz turned to me.
“You are throwing out your wife because a spoiled child cried?”
I felt my hands curl.
Sofia touched my arm.
I breathed.
“You are leaving because I heard you laugh while my child suffered.”
Beatriz’s face flickered.
There it was again.
Fear.
“Alonso, we should talk privately.”
“No.”
Her eyes hardened.
“You will regret humiliating me.”
“I regret marrying you.”
The words left my mouth calm.
Final.
She flinched.
Then she looked past me toward the staircase.
“Isabella will ruin you. Just like her mother ruined you.”
I stepped forward.
The officer moved too.
Beatriz lifted both hands, smiling bitterly.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
Rafael escorted her to the guest wing to pack.
Sofia followed.
Twenty minutes later, Sofia returned holding a leather folder.
Her face was pale.
“She had documents.”
“What documents?”
“Draft guardianship petition. A psychological evaluation template for Isabella. And a notarized statement claiming you planned to name Beatriz as guardian.”
My body went cold.
“I never signed that.”
“I know.”
Sofia opened the folder.
“The signature is forged.”
From upstairs, Isabella screamed.
I ran before anyone else moved.
She stood at the top of the stairs, shaking, while Beatriz stood below with her suitcase.
Beatriz had looked up and mouthed something.
I reached Isabella and pulled her into my arms.
“What did she say?”
My daughter buried her face in my shirt.
“She said if she goes away, she’ll come back when you leave again.”
I looked down at Beatriz.
She smiled.
Small.
Ugly.
May you like
Then the officer took her arm.
And for the first time, she stopped smiling.
