Chapter 4 - The Condo They Tried to Steal
The address on Alexander's screen was the one place he thought his enemies would never find.
His home.
The place where he had spent the last decade trying to rebuild a life after losing his family.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Rebecca Shaw looked at the message again.
Then she looked at Alexander.
"How many people know this address?"
Alexander did not answer immediately.
That worried me.
Because Alexander was a man who always had an answer.
During our marriage, he was the person who planned everything.
The person who checked every possibility.
The person who believed preparation could prevent pain.
But now he was staring at a phone screen like he had just discovered the past had finally caught up with him.
"Not many."
Rebecca folded her arms.
"Not many is not the same as nobody."
Alexander took the phone from her.
His face remained calm.
But I saw his hand tighten around the device.
"They are trying to scare us."
Rebecca shook her head.
"No."
She pointed at the screen.
"They already know too much."
Nobody argued.
Because she was right.
They knew Sofia's location.
They knew about the condo.
They knew Alexander had returned.
And now they knew where he lived.
The question was simple.
How?
Sofia sat quietly beside me.
She looked exhausted.
Like her body was still inside that hotel room.
Like some part of her was still waiting for Carmen to open the door again.
Rebecca noticed.
"Sofia."
My daughter looked up.
"Do you remember anyone handling your phone during the reception?"
She thought for a moment.
"No."
"Anyone asking to borrow it?"
"No."
"Anyone touching your purse?"
Sofia froze.
Just slightly.
But Rebecca saw it.
"Who?"
Sofia looked down.
"My maid of honor."
I felt my stomach drop.
"Who?"
"Melissa."
Javier's sister.
The same woman who stood beside her during the wedding ceremony.
The same woman who hugged her and called her family.
The same woman whose reflection appeared in the photograph.
Rebecca wrote something down.
"Tell me about Melissa."
Sofia looked at the floor.
"She was always nice to me."
That sentence sounded painful.
Not because it was true.
Because she was realizing it might not have been.
"She helped with the wedding."
"How?"
"She handled the guest list."
Rebecca stopped writing.
"The guest list?"
Sofia nodded.
"She said she wanted to make things easier."
A silence filled the room.
I looked at Rebecca.
She looked back at me.
We both understood the same thing.
A wedding guest list was not just names.
It was information.
Addresses.
Phone numbers.
Family details.
Everything someone needed to know.
"Did she ever ask about your condo?"
Sofia hesitated.
"Once."
"When?"
"Two weeks before the wedding."
I felt anger rising.
"What did she say?"
Sofia closed her eyes.
"She asked if Javier would move in after we got married."
"And?"
"I told her no."
Rebecca looked up.
"Why?"
"Because the condo was my father's gift."
That answer seemed to satisfy Rebecca.
But Alexander looked away.
Because he knew something.
Something about that condo.
Something about the reason it mattered.
"Alexander."
He looked at me.
"What aren't you telling us?"
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he sat down.
"The condo was never just a gift."
Sofia looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
He took a breath.
"When I bought it, I created a legal trust."
Rebecca immediately paid attention.
"What kind of trust?"
"A protection trust."
Sofia stared.
"Why?"
Alexander looked at his daughter.
"Because I knew one day someone might try to take advantage of you."
Her eyes filled.
"You thought that would happen?"
"I knew people would see what you had."
He paused.
"I just didn't know they would come through marriage."
Nobody spoke.
Because that was the part that hurt.
A stranger stealing from you was expected.
A person who promised to love you was different.
Rebecca reached for the documents.
"Show me everything related to the condo."
Alexander opened a folder on his laptop.
Within minutes, the room changed.
Because what had seemed like a simple property dispute became something much larger.
The condo was protected.
Completely.
Sofia had full ownership.
Javier had no legal claim.
Carmen's demands were meaningless.
But Rebecca noticed something else.
"Wait."
She zoomed in.
"What?"
"This document."
She pointed.
"Where did this copy come from?"
Sofia looked confused.
"The papers Carmen brought."
Rebecca shook her head.
"No."
She tapped the screen.
"This is not a standard transfer agreement."
Alexander leaned closer.
"What is it?"
Rebecca's expression hardened.
"This is designed to look like a transfer agreement."
The room went silent.
"But it isn't."
She turned the laptop toward us.
"It's an authorization document."
I frowned.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning if Sofia signed this, someone could have used her signature to access more than the condo."
Sofia went pale.
"What else?"
Rebecca looked directly at her.
"Financial accounts."
Nobody moved.
The wedding had never been about one property.
It had been about everything.
Money.
Assets.
Control.
They did not want Sofia's condo.
They wanted access to her entire life.
Alexander stood.
"Where did Javier get these documents?"
That was the question.
The one nobody could answer.
Then Sofia whispered:
"Maybe he didn't."
We looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
She stared at the papers.
"Carmen always handled everything."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"Everything?"
Sofia nodded.
"Javier would say his mother was better with business."
I felt sick.
Because that sentence explained so much.
A person does not need to be intelligent to be dangerous.
Sometimes they only need someone else willing to do the planning.
Rebecca gathered the papers.
"We need to find out who prepared these."
Alexander looked at her.
"How?"
"There is usually a signature trail."
She pointed to the documents.
"Law firms. Notaries. Account information."
Sofia suddenly stood.
Too quickly.
The room shifted.
I grabbed her arm.
"What happened?"
She looked terrified.
"My purse."
"What about it?"
"At the hotel."
She looked at Alexander.
"I forgot something."
"What?"
"My emergency folder."
Rebecca frowned.
"What folder?"
Sofia's face lost color.
"The one with my financial documents."
My heart dropped.
"What documents?"
"The condo paperwork."
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone understood.
The papers Carmen brought.
The papers they wanted Sofia to sign.
They knew exactly what she owned.
Because Sofia had carried the proof herself.
Rebecca immediately picked up her phone.
"We need to contact the hotel."
Alexander nodded.
"I'll do it."
"No."
Rebecca stopped him.
"Not yet."
He looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because if they are watching us..."
She looked at the message.
"...we cannot show them what we know."
That was the first time I realized this was not just about saving Sofia.
It was about staying ahead.
The rest of the morning passed in quiet preparation.
Rebecca contacted people.
Alexander made calls.
I stayed beside my daughter.
At one point, Sofia fell asleep on the couch.
For the first time since she arrived, she looked peaceful.
I watched her.
And I wondered how many times mothers ignored signs because they wanted their children to be happy.
How many warnings we explained away.
How many uncomfortable moments we called misunderstandings.
My phone suddenly vibrated.
I looked down.
Unknown number.
One photo.
My blood went cold.
It was Sofia.
Sleeping on my couch.
Taken from outside my apartment window.
I stood immediately.
Alexander saw my face.
"What is it?"
I turned the phone toward him.
For the first time that morning, his expression changed completely.
Because the person watching us was not outside anymore.
The photo had been taken from inside the building.
And beneath it was a message.
"I told you to stop looking."
Then the elevator in my hallway began moving.
May you like
Up.
Toward my floor.
