CHAPTER 2 — THE WOMAN WHO LIED
CHAPTER 2 — THE WOMAN WHO LIED
Paulina Robles had always believed that fear was something other people experienced.
Servants feared losing their jobs.
Businessmen feared losing money.
Women feared losing husbands.
Paulina feared none of those things.
She had been raised to believe that money could solve almost every problem.
If money failed, influence would work.
If influence failed, secrets would.
And if secrets failed—
There was always someone willing to do something darker.
But that night, for the first time in years, Paulina felt something dangerously close to fear.
She sat alone in the back of her black Mercedes, parked three blocks from the Villaseñor mansion.
Her engagement ring was still on her finger.
She stared at it.
Then she removed it.
Placed it on the seat beside her.
And whispered:
“Not yet.”
She hadn't lost Diego.
Not yet.
The engagement might have ended.
But Paulina knew Diego.
He was emotional when it came to people he loved.
He was protective.
Impulsive.
And when confronted with a child he had never known existed, he would naturally feel responsible.
That was temporary.
Guilt was powerful.
But guilt was also fragile.
All Paulina needed was to give Diego a reason to doubt Marisol.
A reason to believe the woman had manipulated him.
A reason to believe Valentina was not the innocent child everyone thought she was.
And Paulina already knew where to begin.
With the past.
At seven the next morning, Paulina walked into a private office in Polanco.
The man waiting for her didn't stand.
He simply looked up from his laptop.
“You're early.”
“I need information.”
“You usually do.”
“This is different.”
He closed the laptop.
“About Diego?”
“About Marisol.”
His expression changed.
“You said she was irrelevant.”
“She isn't.”
“Why?”
“Because Diego knows about the child.”
The man leaned back.
“And?”
“He believes she's innocent.”
“Then change his mind.”
Paulina stared at him.
“How?”
“Find something.”
“What?”
“Anything.”
Paulina frowned.
“She has no money.”
“That doesn't mean she has no secrets.”
“She was a waitress.”
“Was she?”
“Yes.”
“Then find out where she came from before that.”
Paulina's eyes narrowed.
“You think she had another life?”
“I think everyone has another life.”
He pushed a folder across the desk.
“Start here.”
Paulina opened it.
The first page contained a photograph of Marisol.
But the photograph was old.
Much older than Paulina expected.
Marisol looked seventeen.
Standing beside an older woman.
And behind them was a building.
Paulina recognized it immediately.
The Villaseñor Foundation.
Her fingers tightened around the photograph.
“Where did you get this?”
“That's not important.”
“When was this taken?”
“Fourteen years ago.”
Paulina looked up.
“Marisol was seventeen.”
“Yes.”
“So what was she doing at the Villaseñor Foundation?”
“That is what you're going to find out.”
Marisol woke with a scream trapped in her throat.
For one terrible second, she didn't know where she was.
Then she remembered.
The empty bedroom.
The open window.
The black SUV.
Diego.
Valentina.
She sat upright.
“Valentina!”
A voice answered immediately.
“Mama?”
Marisol turned.
Valentina was asleep beside her.
Alive.
Safe.
Marisol grabbed her daughter and pulled her against her chest.
“Where are we?”
A familiar voice came from the doorway.
“You're safe.”
Marisol froze.
“Who are you?”
The woman stepped into the dim room.
She was in her late fifties.
Silver hair.
Elegant black dress.
A calm expression.
Marisol knew her.
Her name was Elena Villaseñor.
Diego's aunt.
The only member of the Villaseñor family who had ever treated Marisol with kindness.
“Elena?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“You were brought here before anyone could reach you.”
“Who brought us?”
“I did.”
Marisol stared at her.
“Why?”
Elena's expression became serious.
“Because your life is in danger.”
Marisol hugged Valentina tighter.
“Where is Diego?”
“He's looking for you.”
“Why didn't you tell him where we are?”
“Because someone inside his household is watching him.”
“Paulina?”
Elena nodded.
“And she's not working alone.”
Marisol felt cold.
“Who?”
Elena looked toward the window.
“I don't know yet.”
Meanwhile, Diego was destroying his own mansion.
Not physically.
Worse.
He was destroying the system that had protected it.
Every camera.
Every security file.
Every access record.
Every employee.
Every vehicle.
He wanted names.
Dates.
Payments.
Phone numbers.
Anything connected to Marisol's disappearance.
His chief security officer stood across from him.
“Mr. Villaseñor, we have reviewed the footage.”
“And?”
“There was no forced entry.”
Diego stared.
“What?”
“Someone opened the side gate.”
“Who?”
“We're still tracing the access code.”
Diego slammed his hand onto the desk.
“Then trace it faster.”
The officer hesitated.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“The cameras were disabled for eleven minutes.”
Diego's expression changed.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“By whom?”
The officer swallowed.
“An administrator's code.”
“Whose?”
“Paulina Robles.”
Silence.
Diego stared at the screen.
“No.”
“Sir?”
“Run it again.”
“We did.”
“Again.”
The officer nodded.
Then left.
Diego remained alone.
His mind raced.
Paulina had known about Valentina.
Paulina had lied.
Paulina had access to the security system.
And now Marisol and Valentina had disappeared.
It was too much.
But he couldn't accuse her without proof.
His phone rang.
Paulina.
He almost didn't answer.
Then he did.
“What?”
“I need to see you.”
“No.”
“Diego.”
“Tell me where Marisol and Valentina are.”
A pause.
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I am not the enemy.”
Diego laughed bitterly.
“You knew about my daughter.”
“I knew there was a child.”
“You knew she was mine.”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“I was protecting you.”
“From what?”
“From her.”
Diego's voice became ice.
“Don't talk about Marisol like that.”
“Then ask her where she was fourteen years ago.”
He went silent.
Paulina continued.
“Ask her why your father knew her before you did.”
Diego froze.
“What?”
“She lied to you, Diego.”
“How?”
“I don't know yet.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“Because I'm investigating.”
“You're investigating my wife?”
Paulina's voice sharpened.
“Your wife?”
Diego closed his eyes.
The word had escaped before he could stop it.
Paulina noticed.
“You've already chosen her.”
“No.”
“You have.”
“I've chosen the truth.”
“Then find it.”
The call ended.
Diego stared at his phone.
Then immediately turned toward his father's old office.
Paulina sat in a private café that afternoon.
Across from her sat an elderly former accountant.
He had worked for the Villaseñor family for almost forty years.
“You knew Marisol?”
“Yes.”
“Before she worked for Diego?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At the foundation.”
Paulina leaned forward.
“What did she do there?”
“Her mother worked there.”
“Her mother?”
The old man nodded.
“Lucía.”
Paulina's eyes narrowed.
“Who was Lucía?”
He looked uncomfortable.
“You should leave this alone.”
“I don't think you understand.”
She placed an envelope on the table.
Money.
The man's expression changed.
“You'll remember.”
He slowly took the envelope.
Then whispered:
“Lucía wasn't simply an employee.”
“What was she?”
“She was your father-in-law's closest assistant.”
Paulina's pulse quickened.
“Diego's father?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of assistant?”
“She handled private documents.”
“Which documents?”
“The family trust.”
Paulina leaned back.
The pieces were beginning to connect.
Marisol's mother.
The foundation.
The trust.
Valentina.
The thirty percent inheritance.
But there was more.
The old accountant looked around.
Then lowered his voice.
“Lucía discovered something.”
“What?”
“That the trust had another beneficiary.”
Paulina stared.
“Who?”
He looked directly at her.
“Marisol.”
Paulina's blood ran cold.
“What?”
“She was named in an original document.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Where is the document?”
“Destroyed.”
“By whom?”
The old man hesitated.
Then whispered:
“Don Alejandro.”
Paulina slowly stood.
“Why would he destroy a document naming Marisol?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
He looked terrified.
“I swear.”
Paulina picked up her purse.
Then stopped.
“What happened to Lucía?”
The old man looked down.
“She disappeared.”
“When?”
“Fourteen years ago.”
Paulina's eyes widened.
The same year as the photograph.
The same year Marisol had been seventeen.
She walked out of the café.
Her hands were trembling.
Because she had finally found the secret.
And it was far more dangerous than an illegitimate child.
Marisol had not entered Diego's life by accident.
Her mother had been connected to the Villaseñor family.
And the trust had been designed around her long before Valentina was born.
That evening, Paulina returned to the mansion.
She expected Diego to be waiting.
He was.
He stood at the bottom of the staircase.
His expression was unreadable.
“You lied to me,” he said.
Paulina stopped.
“About what?”
“The cameras.”
She smiled faintly.
“I told you I didn't take Marisol.”
“You disabled the security system.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was trying to find her.”
“Without telling me?”
“I knew you wouldn't listen.”
“You were right.”
He stepped closer.
“Who are you working for?”
Paulina's face changed.
“No one.”
“Then why investigate Marisol?”
“Because I found something.”
“What?”
“Her mother.”
Diego froze.
“My father's assistant.”
Paulina nodded.
“Lucía.”
“Where is she?”
“Dead.”
His eyes widened.
“Who told you?”
“The records.”
“What records?”
“The ones your father buried.”
Diego stared at her.
Paulina took a step forward.
“You think Marisol is innocent.”
“She is.”
“You think she was forced to leave.”
“She was.”
“You think she never wanted your money.”
“She didn't.”
Paulina smiled.
“Then explain this.”
She handed him a document.
Diego took it.
His face changed.
It was an old banking record.
A transfer.
From a Villaseñor account.
To an account registered under Marisol's name.
The amount was enormous.
Diego stared.
“When was this?”
“Three years ago.”
The exact year Valentina was born.
“You received this money?”
Paulina asked.
Diego looked up.
“No.”
“Marisol did.”
He stared at the document.
Then his eyes narrowed.
“Where did you get this?”
“I told you.”
“Who gave it to you?”
Paulina smiled.
“That's the question you should be asking.”
Diego looked at the account number.
Something felt wrong.
He pulled out his phone.
Called his bank.
“Trace this transfer.”
A few minutes later, the answer came.
Diego's face went white.
“It's fake.”
Paulina froze.
“What?”
“The account existed.”
“So?”
“It belonged to Marisol.”
“Exactly.”
“But the transfer was never made.”
Paulina's expression changed.
“What?”
“The document was fabricated.”
Diego looked at her.
“Someone wanted you to believe Marisol took money.”
Paulina stepped backward.
Diego's voice became colder.
“You didn't investigate her.”
“You were being manipulated.”
Paulina shook her head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
He held up the document.
“Whoever gave you this wanted you to accuse her.”
Paulina's mind raced.
The man from the café.
The old records.
The missing documents.
Someone was feeding her information.
Someone wanted her to attack Marisol.
Someone wanted Diego to distrust the mother of his child.
She suddenly understood.
She had never been the mastermind.
She had been another piece on the board.
Paulina looked at Diego.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“I found a photograph.”
She handed it to him.
Diego looked down.
It was Marisol.
Seventeen years old.
Standing beside Lucía.
And beside them was his father.
But Diego's attention was captured by one detail.
His father was holding a newborn baby.
A baby wrapped in a white blanket.
Diego stared.
“When was this taken?”
Paulina whispered:
“Fourteen years ago.”
Diego's heart began pounding.
“That can't be.”
Paulina looked at him.
“That's why I came back.”
“What?”
“I think Valentina isn't the first child your father hid.”
Diego looked at the photograph again.
The baby had a tiny golden bracelet.
Engraved with one name.
SOFÍA.
His father's handwriting was visible beneath the photograph.
The first heir must remain hidden.
Diego slowly raised his eyes.
“Who is Sofía?”
Paulina didn't answer.
Because somewhere in the mansion, a phone began ringing.
Neither of them moved.
It rang again.
And again.
Diego followed the sound.
It came from his father's old study.
He opened the drawer.
Inside was an ancient mobile phone.
Still charged.
The screen displayed one incoming message.
YOU FOUND THE WRONG SECRET.
Then another message appeared.
ASK MARISOL WHO SOFÍA IS.
Diego's blood ran cold.
Paulina stared at the phone.
For the first time, neither of them knew who to trust.
And miles away, in Elena's safe house, Marisol woke suddenly.
Valentina was sleeping beside her.
Marisol reached for her daughter's hand.
Then she heard Elena's voice from the hallway.
“Marisol.”
Marisol opened the door.
Elena was standing there with a photograph in her hand.
Her face was pale.
“There's something you need to know.”
Marisol stared at the photograph.
Then the color drained from her face.
Because she recognized the baby.
She had seen that photograph once before.
Fourteen years ago.
Before Diego.
Before Valentina.
Before the lies.
And the secret she had buried for most of her life was finally coming back.
Elena whispered:
“Diego cannot know about Sofía.”
Marisol looked at her.
“Why?”
Elena's eyes filled with fear.
“Because if he finds her…”
She stopped.
“What?”
Elena looked toward the sleeping child.
May you like
“He'll realize who really owns the Villaseñor empire.”
TO BE CONTINUED.
