Chapter 4 - THE SECOND PHONE
The phone was wrapped inside an old pillowcase beneath Isabella’s mattress.
It had no passcode.
That surprised me.
Then I realized Beatriz probably never imagined an eight-year-old would steal it.
The screen was full of messages.
The contact name was simply M.
I opened the conversation.
The first photograph showed Beatriz beside our swimming pool.
A man’s arm was around her waist.
The second showed them inside my study.
The third showed him standing beside my desk with a glass of my whiskey.
I recognized him.
Mateo Salazar.
Our estate administrator.
He managed maintenance contracts, vendors, payroll approvals, and property expenses throughout southern Spain.
I had hired him five years earlier.
He had shaken my hand before I left for Dubai.
He promised to take care of everything.
Apparently he had.
I scrolled.
The messages went back months.
Miss you.
He leaves Sunday.
House is finally ours again.
The little princess is watching.
Then one message from Mateo.
Keep her busy downstairs.
I’ll finish the transfers.
I read it twice.
Transfers.
Suddenly the missing staff meant something else.
I opened the banking app.
No access.
Then the email account.
No password.
But the message history itself was enough to tell me Beatriz’s cruelty was connected to more than resentment.
One conversation was dated five weeks earlier.
MATEO:
Marta is asking about payroll.
BEATRIZ:
Then get rid of her.
MATEO:
She says the company is still paying everyone.
BEATRIZ:
It is.
That’s the point.
My stomach turned.
I had continued paying six household salaries.
Marta.
Lucia.
Antonio.
A driver.
Two cleaners.
Most were no longer working at the villa.
Where was the money going?
Another message answered.
MATEO:
March payroll cleared.
Move the difference tomorrow.
BEATRIZ:
Same account?
MATEO:
Portugal first.
Then Dubai.
I felt something inside me become very calm.
Business calm.
The kind of calm that came before lawyers entered rooms.
Beatriz walked into the bedroom.
She saw the phone in my hand.
Her face changed instantly.
“Where did you get that?”
I locked the screen.
“Why?”
“That is private.”
“You keep a private phone in my house with my employee?”
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“You have no right.”
“I own the phone.”
“It was purchased through the villa expense account.”
She stopped.
She had forgotten who approved invoices.
I moved past her.
“You will sleep in the east guest room tonight.”
“This is my bedroom.”
“Not tonight.”
“You cannot throw me out of my own room.”
“I am not throwing you out.”
“I am separating you from Isabella while I understand what has happened.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You think you can control everything because you have money.”
“No.”
“I think I can control access to my daughter because I am her father.”
Her expression hardened.
“Mateo will tell you everything.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“Where is he?”
“At the office.”
I knew that was a lie.
Mateo was supposed to be in Madrid.
At least according to the calendar he sent me.
I looked at the phone again.
One message had arrived ten minutes earlier.
MATEO:
Did he find the basement files?
May you like
Beatriz saw my face.
Then she ran.
