Chapter 2 - The Antechamber of Secrets
By three o'clock that afternoon, I was settled into my childhood bedroom at my mother’s house. The room smelled of lavender and old paper—a sharp contrast to the toxic atmosphere of the Mendez household. Mateo was playing quietly on the rug with my father’s old wooden train set, blissfully unaware of the war that was about to break out.
My cheek was throbbing beneath a thick layer of silvadene cream and white gauze, but my mind had never been clearer.
Sitting across from me at my mother’s kitchen table was Attorney Sofia Delgado—a woman with a silver streak in her dark hair, a sharp wool suit, and a reputation for dismantling corrupt men in family court like a butcher dressing a carcass. She was an old friend of my late father, and she had brought her senior paralegal, a young man named Gabriel who was already tapping away furiously at a laptop.
"First things first," Sofia said, placing a gold pen on top of a legal pad. "The physical assault gives us immediate leverage. Officer Morales has already filed the criminal complaint for felony domestic violence. A temporary restraining order has been signed by the magistrate. Raul cannot come within five hundred feet of you, Mateo, or your place of business."
"He threatened to come to my office," I said, showing her Raul’s text message.
Sofia chuckled—a low, dry sound. "Let him try. My process servers will be waiting for him at the door with a summons that will make his blood run cold. Now, let’s talk about St. Regina Clinic."
Gabriel turned his laptop toward me. On the screen was a detailed profile of St. Regina’s medical testing services.
"I reached out to a contact in health administration," Gabriel explained. "The text you received was sent via a prepaid burn phone, but the information inside is highly specific. St. Regina offers a priority express panel called the 'Paternal Verification & Genetic Profiling Suite.' It costs exactly three thousand eight hundred dollars when expedited within twenty-four hours."
"Why twenty-four hours?" I asked.
"Because," Sofia chimed in, leaning forward, "someone is trying to establish or disprove paternity before a legal deadline. Mariana, think carefully. Who is Paola involved with?"
I shook my head, my brow furrowing in thought. "Paola doesn't work. She claims she’s an 'influencer' and a 'fashion consultant.' She moves from wealthy boyfriend to wealthy boyfriend. Six months ago, she was dating a guy named Julian—some heir to a regional transport company. But they broke up after he accused her of stealing a watch from his condo."
"And after Julian?"
"She started hanging out with Raul’s social circle," I remembered, the pieces slowly starting to collide in my brain. "Raul was trying to get a contract with Vargas Construction, the biggest real estate developer in the province. He spent months trying to get close to Don Hector Vargas. He used to host poker nights at our house... Don Hector’s son, Diego Vargas, came to three of those nights."
Sofia’s eyes lit up. "Diego Vargas. The thirty-year-old playboy whose father controls a fifty-million-dollar real estate portfolio?"
"Yes," I breathed, my heart beginning to hammer against my ribs. "Paola was always flirting with him. She would wear these ridiculous dresses and serve him drinks while Raul tried to sell him on a joint venture. About two months ago, Doña Teresa started treating Paola like fragile porcelain. She wouldn't let her carry groceries, wouldn't let her clean..."
"And then came the morning sickness," my mother added from the stove, where she was brewing chamomile tea. "The nausea she claimed was 'food poisoning' from your cooking."
Sofia tapped her gold pen against the pad. "If Paola is pregnant with Diego Vargas’s child, that’s a golden ticket for the Mendez family. It’s their entry into the Vargas fortune. But why would they need a secret paternity test today?"
"Unless," Gabriel suggested, looking up from his screen, "Diego Vargas isn't the only man who could be the father."
A heavy, sickening silence descended upon the kitchen.
I looked at Sofia, then at Gabriel. The memory of Raul’s face in the hallway came back to me—not anger, but fear. The kind of fear that flashes when someone suddenly pictures a secret they forgot to hide.
"When I told Raul to call the police," I whispered, my voice trembling, "he didn't get mad. He got scared. He looked at me like I knew something."
"We need to find out who else was in that house," Sofia said firmly. "And we need to do it before Paola finds another way to pay for that test. Gabriel, trace the IP address of that burn phone text. If we can verify the source inside St. Regina, we can subpoena the records."
My phone rang. The screen displayed the name: RAUL.
Sofia gestured for me to put it on speaker. I swiped the green button, holding my breath.
"Mariana!" Raul’s voice boomed through the speaker, tight with panicked aggression. "Where the hell are you?! The water in the house just went off, and the power is flickering! What did you do to the accounts?!"
I took a deep, steady breath, looking at Sofia, who gave me a sharp nod of encouragement.
"I turned them off, Raul," I said calmly. "Just like I turned off my credit card."
"Are you insane?!" he yelled. "My mother is here! Paola is sick! Turn the utilities back on right now, or so help me God—"
"Or so help you God, what, Raul?" I interrupted, my voice dropping an octave, cold and unyielding. "You’ll throw another mug of boiling coffee at my face? You’ll burn my other cheek?"
A sudden beat of silence stretched over the line. Raul hadn't realized I was on speakerphone, nor did he know that Sofia’s paralegal was currently recording the call.
"Listen to me very carefully, Raul," I continued. "I am at a safe location with Mateo. The police have your medical report. The judge has signed a domestic violence restraining order. If you come near me, my office, or my mother’s home, you will be arrested on the spot."
"Mariana... wait..." His tone shifted instantly, sliding into that slimy, defensive charm he used whenever he knew he was caught. "Mariana, baby, come on. You know I didn't mean to burn you. The mug slipped! I was just stressed! Paola’s situation... it’s complicated, Mariana. We’re a family. We have to support each other!"
"Paola’s situation isn't my emergency, Raul," I said. "And I am no longer your ATM."
"If you don't help us with the St. Regina payment today, everything is going to be ruined!" he pleaded, his voice cracking with genuine terror. "You don't understand what Don Hector will do to us if he finds out!"
Don Hector. He had said the name out loud.
"Thank you for confirming, Raul," I said softly. "Goodbye."
"Mariana! Don't you dare hung up on—"
I disconnected the call and immediately blocked his number.
Sofia smiled—a sharp, predatory expression. "He just handed us his motive on a silver platter. He isn't trying to help his sister out of love. He's operating under extortion or a massive fraudulent play aimed at the Vargas family."
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"What do we do now?" I asked.
"Now," Sofia said, standing up and smoothing her jacket, "we go on the offensive. Tomorrow morning, I file for divorce, emergency sole custody, and a freeze on all joint assets. And you, Mariana... you are going to pay a visit to Don Hector Vargas."
