CHAPTER 1: The Room Behind the Music
Alejandro Santillán did not move for several seconds.
The party still thundered downstairs.
Music. Laughter. Glasses clinking.
But inside the dining room, there was only silence.
His four little girls stared at him as if he were not their father, but a judge deciding whether they deserved to breathe.
That destroyed him more than the moldy bread.
Alejandro slowly reached for the plate. Valeria flinched.
He froze.
Then he softened his voice.
“No, sweetheart. I’m not angry at you.”
Valeria’s small fingers trembled as she let go.
Alejandro picked up one piece of bread. Green mold spread across the crust like poison.
His jaw tightened.
He turned toward the open door.
“Jimena.”
The name came out quietly.
That made it more terrifying.
Camila grabbed his sleeve.
“Please don’t tell her we talked.”
Regina whispered, “She locks the pantry when we cry.”
Sofía was still beneath the table, hugging her knees.
Alejandro lowered himself to the floor.
“Sofía,” he said gently. “Come here, my love.”
The little girl shook her head.
“She said if we bother you, you’ll send us away.”
Alejandro’s eyes filled with tears, but he did not let them fall.
He crawled closer, slowly, careful not to frighten her.
“I would burn this whole house down before I ever sent you away.”
Sofía looked at him.
For the first time that night, she moved toward him.
Alejandro pulled all four girls into his arms.
Their bodies were cold.
Too cold.
He removed his wet suit jacket and wrapped it around them.
Then he took out his phone.
“Doctor Herrera,” he said when the call connected. “Come to my house now. Bring a pediatric team.”
A pause.
“Yes. All four of them.”
Another pause.
Alejandro looked at the moldy bread.
“And call the police.”
Behind him, high heels clicked against the marble.
Jimena appeared in the doorway, champagne glass in hand, diamonds blazing against her throat.
For one second, her smile faltered.
Then she laughed.
“Alejandro, darling, you’re home early.”
He stood.
The girls shrank behind him.
Jimena noticed.
Her eyes hardened.
“Oh, don’t let them perform for you. They’re dramatic when they want attention.”
Alejandro held up the moldy bread.
“What is this?”
Jimena rolled her eyes.
“Dinner.”
“For my daughters?”
“They were being difficult. Children need discipline.”
Camila started crying harder.
Jimena pointed at her.
“See? That one always starts.”
Alejandro stepped forward.
Jimena’s confidence slipped.
“You sent me photos,” he said. “Every week. Birthday cakes. New clothes. Ballet lessons. Meals with chefs.”
Jimena smiled again.
“And they had all that. You worry too much.”
Alejandro’s voice dropped.
“Where is the chef?”
Jimena blinked.
“Vacation.”
“The nanny?”
“She quit.”
“The housekeeper?”
Jimena’s mouth tightened.
“Also quit.”
Alejandro turned toward the hallway.
“Everyone quit?”
Jimena set down her champagne glass.
“Alejandro, you’ve been gone six months. Do not walk into this house and act like a saint.”
He stared at her diamonds.
Then at the crowd behind her.
Then at the moldy bread in his hand.
“No,” he said. “Tonight, I act like a father.”
Jimena laughed coldly.
“Careful. You may own the house, but I am your wife.”
Alejandro looked at the girls.
“No,” he said. “You were my mistake.”
Jimena’s face went pale.
At that moment, the music stopped.
Because Alejandro reached for the wall panel and shut down power to the entire ballroom.
The mansion fell into darkness.
Then emergency lights flickered on.
Every guest turned.
Alejandro walked into the living room holding the moldy bread.
His daughters stood behind him wrapped in his jacket.
Jimena followed, furious.
“Alejandro, don’t you dare embarrass me.”
He lifted the bread in front of everyone.
“My children were upstairs starving while you danced in diamonds.”
The room went silent.
One woman covered her mouth.
A man slowly lowered his drink.
Jimena smiled tightly.
“They’re children. They exaggerate.”
Alejandro looked toward the security cameras in the corners of the room.
May you like
Then he said the words that made Jimena’s smile disappear.
“Then let’s watch the recordings.”
