He stepped on the gas and sped away. He dropped his fiancée off at a boutique in Polanco and drove to the 50th floor of his corporate building. He closed the door and called Héctor, a former commander and now a relentless private investigator. “
I want to know everything about Ximena and those two kids,” he ordered. “And reopen my divorce case. I want you to find every damn crack in that lie.”
Alejandro gazed down at Mexico City, shimmering from above. If those children were his, he hadn’t just lost his wife; he had destroyed his own family. His knuckles paled as he clenched his fists, for no one in that building could have imagined the monstrous storm that was about to break…
PART 2
Two days later, Hector entered Alejandro’s elegant office with a heavy black folder in his hands.
“I found everything, boss.”
Alejandro stood up so quickly that his leather chair slammed violently against the glass wall. Hector opened the folder on the immense mahogany desk.
Birth certificates. Two boys: Mateo and Santiago. Registered only with their mother’s surname at a modest IMSS clinic in a remote town in the State of Mexico.
They were born prematurely. Medical reports indicated that the mother suffered from severe malnutrition and acute anemia during childbirth. The date of conception coincided exactly with the month before the stormy night when Alejandro had kicked Ximena out of his house.
Alejandro felt his stomach drop to the floor. He couldn’t breathe.
But that was just the beginning of hell.
The alleged bank transfers for which Ximena was accused had been carried out through a sophisticated digital cloning system, operated and directly linked to Valeria’s personal cell phone.
The photographs of Ximena entering the motel were a crude and disgusting fabrication. The supposed lover with whom she was photographed was nothing more than a failed commercial actor, whom Valeria had paid 100,000 pesos in cash to play the part and disappear from the city.
The priceless diamond crucifix, a family heirloom, had been planted in the room by the mansion’s head cleaner, who had been bribed with large sums of money to betray the lady of the house.
And there was more. Much more.
Hector pulled out a stack of recent photos. Valeria, laughing on the balcony of a luxurious penthouse in Santa Fe, was passionately kissing Mauricio Robles, Alejandro’s number one business rival.
Dozens of leaked WhatsApp messages, audio recordings, and corporate documents proved that Valeria had been passing confidential information to Mauricio for 14 months. She was planning to destroy Alejandro’s real estate empire from within, bankrupt him, and marry his enemy.
At the bottom of the folder, protected in a plastic sleeve, was the piece that made Alejandro’s bl00d run cold. A printed copy of an anonymous message, traced back to Valeria’s phone, sent to Ximena one month after the divorce:
“If you try to find him, or if you dare to demand a single cent using the bastards you’re carrying, all three of you will end up in a clandestine grave. Disappear.”
Alejandro didn’t utter a word for several minutes. The silence in the office was deafening. What was etched on his face wasn’t just an overwhelming guilt capable of breaking a man, but an icy, calculated, and lethal fury.
The fury of a father whose entire life had been stolen from him.
“Get everything ready,” he finally said, his voice raspy but unwavering. “I want an engagement party. The biggest, most obscene, and most spectacular this city has ever seen.
Invite the press, the business elite, the politicians… and make sure Mauricio Robles is sitting in the front row.”
Héctor stared at him.
“He’s going to expose everyone, boss. It’ll be a national scandal.”
“No,” Alejandro replied, his eyes as hard as granite. “I’m going to give the truth back to the woman I destroyed.”
On the night of the gala, held in the main ballroom of a 5-star hotel in Polanco, luxury overflowed in every corner.
Crystal chandeliers illuminated the space like a scene from a movie. Red carpet. Special reserve tequila, imported champagne, haute couture gowns, custom-made tuxedos, and dozens of cameras from the most prestigious society magazines.
Valeria shone in the center of the ballroom, covered in diamonds and emeralds, convinced that that night she would be crowned the ultimate queen of Alexander’s empire.
At precisely 11 o’clock at night, Alejandro ascended the imposing stage.
The hall fell silent. He took the microphone and scanned the more than 500 guests, his gaze lingering on Valeria, who smiled at him insincerely.
“Good evening. We are here today to celebrate an engagement,” he began, his voice resonating. “A union supposedly built on love, loyalty, and truth.”
He paused strategically. Tension filled the room.
“But we are also here to bury a disgusting lie.”
Valeria frowned, confused.
Suddenly, the enormous 10-meter LED screen installed behind Alejandro lit up.
In the first recovered security video, Valeria could be clearly seen sneaking into the mansion’s dressing room and hiding the diamond crucifix.
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