Chapter 3 - The Files Beneath the Floor
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Mariana felt as though the air inside Aguilar Capital had become too thin to breathe.
Rodrigo recovered first.
He laughed.
It was not convincing.
“This is ridiculous.”
Herrera looked at him.
“Is it?”
Rodrigo pointed at Mariana.
“You’re letting these people manipulate you while you’re grieving.”
“These people?”
“Your father’s people.”
Mariana’s mouth tightened.
“They were his people yesterday. Today, they’re mine.”
Something flashed in Rodrigo’s eyes.
Hatred.
For years he had dismissed her as someone incapable of understanding business.
Now she realized why he had needed to believe that.
If Mariana was foolish, he was safe.
If Mariana was dependent, he was powerful.
If Mariana ever became curious, everything changed.
She turned to Herrera.
“What evidence?”
“Your father didn’t tell me specifically.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“He said he was gathering documents.”
“Where?”
Herrera shook his head.
“He wouldn’t say.”
Rodrigo stepped backward.
“I’m done with this.”
Mariana watched him.
“You came here demanding I restore your financing. Now you’re leaving?”
“I have a company to save.”
“You have a company to explain.”
He pointed at her.
“Be careful.”
The security guards moved.
Mariana lifted a hand.
“No. Let him go.”
Rodrigo glared.
She held his gaze.
“Because the next time we speak, I want you to have decided which lies you’re keeping.”
He walked away.
The elevator doors closed behind him.
Sofia exhaled.
“Well.”
Mariana turned.
“What?”
“I have known that man nine years.”
“And?”
“I’ve never seen him scared.”
Neither had Mariana.
That frightened her more than his anger.
They returned to Ernesto’s office.
Herrera opened another set of documents.
“Your father changed his estate plan six months ago.”
Mariana stared at him.
“Why?”
“He discovered irregular transfers.”
“Rodrigo?”
“Possibly.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because he wanted proof.”
Mariana walked toward her father’s desk.
She ran her fingers along the edge.
There was an old memory buried beneath the grief.
She was twelve.
Her father had been teaching her chess.
“Never attack because you’re angry,” he told her.
“Why not?”
“Anger tells the other person where you’re looking.”
“What should I do?”
“Watch where they stop looking.”
Mariana suddenly turned.
“What was my father watching?”
Sofia frowned.
“What?”
“He suspected Rodrigo. But he didn’t confront him until yesterday.”
“Apparently.”
“So he must have found something recently.”
Herrera nodded slowly.
“Likely.”
“What changed six months ago?”
Sofia searched financial files.
Then she stopped.
“Camila.”
Mariana looked over.
“CR Holdings payments increased dramatically six months ago.”
“How dramatically?”
“Three hundred percent.”
Mariana stared.
Sofia continued.
“And another company appeared.”
Asteria Consulting.
“Owner?”
“Hidden behind a foreign entity.”
“Payments?”
“About two million dollars.”
Herrera stood behind them.
“Your father might have believed Rodrigo was preparing to move assets.”
Mariana looked at the transfer schedule.
He had.
The pattern was obvious once she knew where to look.
Money entered Grupo Mendoza through credit.
Then flowed into questionable vendor companies.
Those companies pushed funds into private assets.
Rodrigo was hollowing out his own business.
Or preparing for something.
Mariana remembered his warning.
If he destroyed me, he would destroy you too.
Maybe it had not been emotional manipulation.
Maybe it had been financial.
“Can Rodrigo access my personal accounts?”
“No,” Herrera said.
“Trust distributions?”
“No.”
“My father’s companies?”
“No.”
“Then how could destroying him destroy me?”
Sofia answered.
“Reputation.”
Mariana turned.
“What?”
“If he can convince lenders or regulators that you were involved.”
Mariana’s stomach tightened.
“I wasn’t.”
“That may not matter initially.”
Sofia pulled up corporate records.
“You were listed as honorary vice president of the family charitable foundation.”
“So?”
“One of the shell companies donated to the foundation.”
Mariana stared.
“How much?”
“Enough to create questions.”
“Why would Rodrigo do that?”
Herrera answered quietly.
“Insurance.”
Rodrigo had prepared a shield.
If investigators came, he could point toward Mariana’s name.
The useless wife had suddenly become useful.
As a potential accomplice.
Mariana stepped away from the screen.
“I need air.”
She walked through her father’s office into the private library.
Books covered three walls.
The fourth held family photographs.
Mariana saw herself at eight on horseback.
At sixteen in graduation robes.
At twenty-five beside Rodrigo at their wedding.
She stopped before the wedding photograph.
Her father stood beside her.
He was smiling.
But his eyes were not.
Mariana touched the frame.
“I’m sorry.”
A quiet click came from beneath her fingers.
She frowned.
The frame had shifted.
Behind it was a small metal plate.
A keypad.
Mariana stared.
“Sofia?”
They came in.
Herrera looked surprised.
“I didn’t know about this.”
“What code would he use?” Sofia asked.
Mariana thought.
Birthday?
Too obvious.
Her mother’s birthday?
Maybe.
Then she remembered something.
The jacaranda tree.
Her father had planted it the year Mariana was born.
March 17.
She entered 0317.
Nothing.
Then she tried the year.
A green light appeared.
A section of bookshelf released.
Behind it sat a narrow safe.
Sofia whispered, “Your father really did like drama.”
Despite herself, Mariana almost smiled.
Inside the safe were three folders.
A USB drive.
And a handwritten note.
For Mariana, if Clause One is activated.
Her hands trembled.
Herrera inserted the USB into an isolated laptop.
The first folder contained financial records.
The second contained photographs of Rodrigo and Camila.
The third contained audio files.
Mariana stared at the screen.
“Play one.”
Herrera hesitated.
“Play it.”
The recording began.
Rodrigo’s voice.
Clear.
“…you keep pretending this is your company.”
A second voice answered.
Ernesto.
“It became my problem when I guaranteed your debt.”
“You did that for Mariana.”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t punish her.”
“I’m protecting her.”
“You’ll destroy her marriage.”
“I think you did that yourself.”
There was movement.
Then Rodrigo said something that froze Mariana.
“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
Ernesto answered calmly.
“I know exactly what you’re capable of. That’s why this conversation is being recorded.”
The audio ended.
Mariana stared at the laptop.
Sofia whispered, “Jesus.”
Herrera opened another file.
Different date.
Camila’s voice this time.
“You said Ernesto wouldn’t discover the transfers.”
Rodrigo replied.
“He discovered some.”
“Some?”
“Not enough.”
“What if he tells Mariana?”
“He won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because old men always think they have one more move.”
Mariana’s chest tightened.
Herrera stopped the recording.
“That doesn’t prove involvement in his death.”
“I know.”
But it proved her father had been right.
Rodrigo was not simply selfish.
He had been stealing.
Planning.
Lying.
Then they found the final folder.
It was password protected.
The hint said:
The first promise.
Mariana knew immediately.
When she was six, her mother became seriously ill for the first time.
Mariana had asked her father whether Elena would die.
He knelt beside her bed and promised:
Whatever happens, you will never be alone.
Mariana typed NEVERALONE.
The folder opened.
Inside was a spreadsheet.
Names.
Companies.
Payment dates.
One name appeared repeatedly.
SALGADO.
Vice chairman Arturo Salgado.
The man trying to call an emergency board meeting.
Mariana felt sick.
“He’s involved.”
Sofia scanned the transactions.
“Looks like it.”
Another name appeared.
CAMACHO.
Then a hospital foundation.
Then several payments labeled security consulting.
Herrera frowned.
“This is bigger than embezzlement.”
“How?”
“Some of these companies bid on public infrastructure.”
Sofia looked up.
“Kickbacks?”
“Possibly.”
Mariana realized why Rodrigo was terrified.
Losing credit was inconvenient.
Losing the house was humiliating.
But evidence of fraud could destroy him completely.
Her phone buzzed.
Camila Reyes.
Mariana stared at the name.
Sofia raised an eyebrow.
“Answer.”
Mariana did.
“Hello?”
Camila was breathing quickly.
“Mariana?”
“Yes.”
“We need to meet.”
“Why?”
“Because Rodrigo knows Ernesto kept records.”
Mariana exchanged looks with Herrera.
“How do you know?”
“He called me.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me to disappear.”
Mariana’s blood chilled.
“Where are you?”
“At my apartment.”
“Stay there.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because someone already came here.”
A crash sounded.
Camila gasped.
Then the line went dead.
Mariana stood.
“Call police.”
Herrera already was.
Sofia grabbed her coat.
Mariana looked at her.
“You’re staying here.”
“So are you.”
“No.”
“Mariana—”
“If Camila knows something about my father, I’m going.”
Herrera blocked the door.
“Your father specifically instructed me to protect you.”
“And my father is dead.”
“That is exactly why I’m taking his instruction seriously.”
Mariana stopped.
She hated that he was right.
They called authorities and sent private security.
Twenty-eight minutes later, the report came.
Camila’s apartment door had been forced open.
The rooms were ransacked.
Camila was gone.
There was no blood.
No body.
Only one thing left behind.
A phone.
On it was an unsent message addressed to Mariana.
If anything happens to me, look at the dog.
Mariana read it twice.
“The dog?”
Sofia frowned.
“Bruno?”
Mariana’s thoughts raced.
Bruno had belonged to Rodrigo only one year.
He claimed he bought the dog from a breeder outside the city.
But Mariana remembered something strange.
Her father hated Bruno.
Not because he disliked dogs.
Ernesto loved animals.
He hated the collar.
Once during dinner, he had stared at it for a long time.
“Why does that dog need a tracking collar indoors?” he asked.
Rodrigo had laughed.
“He’s expensive.”
Mariana immediately looked at Herrera.
“I need to go back to the house.”
“No.”
“Gabriel.”
“No.”
“What if there’s something on Bruno?”
Sofia slowly nodded.
“GPS storage?”
“Maybe.”
Herrera sighed.
“Then security comes with us.”
At the mansion, everything had changed.
Beatriz had packed suitcases.
Renata was shouting at movers.
Rodrigo was nowhere visible.
Mariana entered with two guards.
Beatriz rushed toward her.
“You!”
Mariana walked past.
“You froze our cards!”
“Your cards?”
“You know what I mean.”
Mariana continued toward the rear terrace.
“Where’s Bruno?”
Beatriz followed.
“Rodrigo took him.”
Mariana stopped.
“When?”
“An hour ago.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Mariana’s heartbeat accelerated.
Rodrigo knew.
He knew they were looking.
A phone rang upstairs.
Then Beatriz’s expression changed.
“Actually…”
“What?”
“Bruno came back.”
“What?”
“He escaped the car or something. Renata saw him in the garden.”
Mariana ran.
Rain had stopped.
The garden smelled like wet stone and grass.
“Bruno!”
Nothing.
She called again.
A massive dark shape emerged near the pool house.
Bruno approached.
His fur was muddy.
His leash dragged behind him.
Mariana crouched.
The same dog Rodrigo had used to humiliate her hours earlier now walked directly toward her and rested his head against her shoulder.
She almost cried.
“You’re not the monster, are you?”
Bruno licked her hand.
Sofia found the collar.
“It’s heavy.”
They removed it.
Inside the thick leather lining was something rigid.
A tiny plastic storage card.
Mariana stared.
“What is that?”
Sofia held it carefully.
“A microSD.”
Back at the office, they accessed it.
Video files appeared.
Dozens.
Security footage.
Rodrigo had apparently hidden a camera in Bruno’s collar.
Perhaps to monitor staff.
Perhaps to spy.
The final video was dated yesterday.
Mariana pressed play.
The image shook as Bruno moved through Rodrigo’s private home office.
Rodrigo stood beside the desk.
Arturo Salgado sat across from him.
Their voices were clear.
“Ernesto knows about Camila,” Salgado said.
Rodrigo cursed.
“And the subcontractors?”
“He knows enough.”
“What does he want?”
“For you to resign.”
Rodrigo laughed.
“He can go to hell.”
Salgado leaned forward.
“If Ernesto sends those files to regulators, we all go down.”
Rodrigo remained silent.
Then he said:
“He won’t.”
The video ended.
Mariana felt ice settle in her stomach.
There were two more clips.
In the next, Rodrigo spoke on the phone.
“Meet me at six.”
Pause.
“Yes. I’ll handle Ernesto.”
The final video showed Rodrigo returning home later that evening.
He entered the office alone.
His hand was bleeding.
His shirt cuff was torn.
He poured whisky.
Then he whispered something.
The microphone barely captured it.
Sofia increased the volume.
Rodrigo’s voice became clear.
“The old man should have listened.”
Mariana closed her eyes.
Her father had died hours later.
Herrera immediately called the authorities.
Mariana stood beside the window.
She wanted revenge.
For one terrifying second, she wanted Rodrigo to feel every ounce of terror he had given her.
Then she remembered Ernesto.
Never attack because you’re angry.
She opened her eyes.
“Don’t tell Rodrigo we found this.”
Herrera looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because he thinks the evidence disappeared with Camila.”
Sofia understood.
“You want him to make a mistake.”
“No.”
Mariana looked toward Bruno, sleeping peacefully beside the desk.
“I want him to believe he still has one move left.”
Her phone rang.
Rodrigo.
She answered.
His voice was calm.
“Mariana.”
“Yes?”
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Your father.”
She waited.
“I know what happened to him.”
Mariana’s pulse stopped.
“Then tell me.”
“Not on the phone.”
“Where?”
“The house.”
Mariana looked at Herrera.
Rodrigo continued.
“Come alone.”
“Why?”
“Because if you bring anyone, you’ll never know the truth.”
Then he hung up.
Mariana stared at the phone.
May you like
She knew it could be a trap.
She also knew Rodrigo had just made exactly the mistake she had been waiting for.
