Chapter 9 - THE LIE I GAVE BEATRIZ
At breakfast, I apologized to my wife.
Not sincerely.
But convincingly.
Beatriz stared at me as though she had misheard.
“I came home exhausted.”
I said.
“I saw Isabella in the garden.”
“I reacted emotionally.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“And now?”
“Now I understand there may have been problems while I was away.”
“But I should have spoken to you privately.”
She studied me.
Beatriz was intelligent.
That was one reason I married her.
The other was that she had once seemed warm.
For a moment, I wondered whether any of that woman had been real.
Then she touched my hand.
“I knew you would understand.”
I almost pulled away.
Instead, I smiled.
“I need to return to Dubai.”
Her eyes changed.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“So soon?”
“There’s a contract issue.”
“Three days maximum.”
Relief appeared too quickly.
She tried to hide it by lowering her eyes.
“I wish you could stay.”
“I know.”
I told her Isabella would remain with Marta for two nights because the girl needed familiarity while we “reset the household.”
Beatriz objected.
Gently.
Carefully.
I refused.
That protected my daughter.
At noon, a company driver took Isabella and Marta to a secure apartment Gabriel maintained in Málaga.
Beatriz believed they were staying with Marta’s sister.
Then I packed a suitcase.
At 5:40 p.m., I left the villa in a company car.
At 6:10, the car reached Málaga Airport.
At 6:18, Beatriz texted Mateo.
The second phone was mirrored onto Gabriel’s computer.
HE’S GONE.
Mateo replied.
GOOD.
TOMORROW MOVES UP.
Beatriz:
Tonight?
Mateo:
Victor can notarize at 11.
Then another message.
BRING THE SIGNATURE TOKEN.
I had given Beatriz a replica.
The real digital certificate was already disabled.
At 8:00 p.m., I was not on a plane.
I was sitting in an unmarked vehicle two streets from my own villa with Gabriel and two investigators from a private forensic firm.
At 8:17, Mateo arrived.
At 8:24, another car entered the property.
A notary named Victor Álvarez.
At 8:31, Beatriz brought the basement files upstairs.
At 9:02, a fourth person arrived.
I recognized him immediately.
Carlos Vega.
Chief acquisitions officer of a competitor that had tried twice to buy the Estepona land.
Gabriel whispered,
“This is bigger than Mateo.”
I watched Carlos enter my home.
Then my phone received an automated security alert.
Someone was trying to access my corporate signing account.
Three failed attempts.
Then a message appeared on Beatriz’s phone.
Mateo:
Token doesn’t work.
Beatriz:
He changed it?
Mateo:
Impossible.
Then another.
Mateo:
Unless he knows.
Inside the villa, every light in my study turned on.
Beatriz called me.
I let it ring.
She called again.
Then a third time.
I finally answered.
“Everything okay?”
I asked.
Her breathing sounded different.
“Yes.”
“I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Alone?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
I looked through the windshield at four cars parked outside my villa.
“That’s interesting.”
May you like
I said.
“Because I can see Mateo standing in my study.”
