Chapter 5 - The Trust
Lucia had never told me the full value of her father’s trust.
Neither had Elena.
That revelation created an anger different from the one I felt toward Beatriz.
“Why didn’t I know?”
Elena met my eyes.
“Because Lucia instructed us not to disclose the amount until Isabella turned nine.”
“Why?”
“She was afraid money would change the way people treated your daughter.”
The irony was unbearable.
Money had changed the way Beatriz treated Isabella without Isabella even knowing it existed.
The trust was protected.
Neither I nor Beatriz could simply withdraw from it.
But if I died or became legally incompetent, Isabella’s guardian would gain enormous influence over distributions made for her care.
Javier knew corporate structures.
Beatriz knew my household.
Together, they had built a path toward both fortunes.
Police searched the Puerto Banús apartment.
They found forged signatures, burner phones, sedatives, and photographs of my travel schedule.
They also found a school brochure from Switzerland.
A boarding school.
Isabella’s name was written across the application.
The proposed enrollment date was two weeks after my planned psychiatric commitment.
They intended to remove her from Spain.
When Detective Ortega showed me the document, Isabella was asleep upstairs in the villa with Rosa beside her.
“Do not tell her yet,” I said.
Carmen nodded.
“She has enough to process.”
“Can you arrest Beatriz?”
“Not for being cruel.”
“What about the fraud?”
“We need the financial chain.”
“The recordings?”
“Helpful.”
“The injuries?”
“Very helpful.”
“Then why is she still free?”
“Because if I arrest too early, Javier’s lawyers will argue we built the case backward from your anger.”
I hated the answer.
But I understood it.
The next morning, Beatriz returned to the villa with an attorney.
She demanded access to her belongings.
Elena allowed it under supervision.
Beatriz walked through the house as if nothing had changed.
When she passed Isabella, she smiled.
My daughter immediately lowered her eyes.
I stepped between them.
“Don’t look at her.”
Beatriz laughed.
“You can’t protect her forever.”
“No.”
I leaned closer.
“But I can protect her today.”
Her smile disappeared.
In the bedroom, Beatriz packed designer clothes and jewelry.
Then she reached for a red leather cosmetics case.
Mateo stopped her.
“Open it.”
“It contains private items.”
“Open it.”
Her attorney objected.
Detective Ortega, who had arrived moments earlier, obtained consent to inspect it.
Inside were cosmetics.
Beneath them was a false bottom.
Under that lay three small vials.
The labels had been removed.
Carmen sealed them.
Beatriz’s confidence cracked.
“They’re vitamins.”
“Then the laboratory will confirm that.”
That afternoon, the preliminary analysis came back.
The vials contained a prescription sedative.
The same drug had been found in my study.
I had never been prescribed it.
Then my Dubai assistant called.
“Mr. Serrano, do you remember getting sick at the company dinner before you flew out?”
I remembered.
I had become dizzy after one glass of wine.
Javier had driven me back to the hotel.
My assistant continued.
“The restaurant kept security footage.”
My pulse quickened.
“What does it show?”
“Javier putting something in your glass.”
The conspiracy had started before I left Spain.
Maybe long before.
That evening, Isabella asked if she could sleep in my room.
I made a bed for her on the sofa.
At two in the morning, I woke to her crying.
I sat beside her.
“Bad dream?”
She shook her head.
“What is it?”
“I remembered something.”
“What?”
She looked toward the closed door.
“The night Beatriz burned my arm, Javier was here.”
I waited.
“He was angry because I opened Dad’s office.”
“What did you see?”
“A box.”
“What kind of box?”
Detective Ortega asked Isabella to draw the villa instead of answering more questions.
Isabella drew every room in bright colors except the guest wing.
That room was black.
Beside it she drew a tiny red square.
The psychologist asked what it was.
Isabella whispered that it was the camera light.
I had to leave the room before my anger frightened her.
“Black.”
“Where?”
“Under the floor.”
My heart stopped.
There was no box under my study floor.
At least, there had not been when I left.
Isabella whispered the final part.
May you like
“Javier said if you ever found it, they would have to make sure you never came home.”
