Chapter 14 — The Son in the Black Car
The video ended.
Nobody moved.
Alejandro stared at the frozen image of Elena sitting beside Victor.
His mother.
The woman who had spent years telling him she was protecting him.
The woman who had convinced him that Lucía had abandoned him.
The woman who had helped erase Isabella from his memory.
Now she had taken Daniel.
His son.
Alejandro slowly lowered the phone.
“Where are they going?”
Mateo answered immediately.
“I traced the vehicle.”
“And?”
“It's heading east.”
“How far?”
“About three hours from here.”
“Where?”
Mateo looked at the map.
Then his expression changed.
“The old Montero estate.”
Alejandro's stomach tightened.
“My grandfather's estate?”
“Yes.”
Rafael shook his head.
“No.”
Alejandro looked at him.
“What?”
“That's where Gabriel keeps the archives.”
“The archives?”
“Everything.”
Rafael's voice became darker.
“Every medical record. Every inheritance document. Every identity they erased.”
Alejandro looked at Lucía.
“And Daniel?”
Rafael hesitated.
“Daniel was trained there.”
Lucía's face hardened.
“Then that's where they're taking him.”
Alejandro nodded.
“Let's go.”
The drive was silent.
Isabella sat between Lucía and Sofia.
She had been unusually quiet.
Alejandro watched her through the rearview mirror.
“Isabella.”
She looked up.
“Yes, Daddy?”
“Do you remember the estate?”
She nodded.
“I've been there.”
“When?”
“Grandpa Gabriel took me there once.”
Lucía immediately turned.
“Why?”
“He showed me a big room.”
“What room?”
“A room with lots of pictures.”
Alejandro's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“The family archive.”
Isabella nodded.
“There were pictures of Mommy.”
Lucía went still.
“What pictures?”
“Pictures of you when you were young.”
“Anything else?”
Isabella thought.
“There was one picture of you holding Daniel.”
Alejandro's heart stopped.
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“How old was he?”
“Very little.”
Lucía closed her eyes.
A memory flashed.
A baby boy.
Black hair.
A tiny hand wrapped around her finger.
She heard herself laughing.
Then Elena's voice.
“You don't need two children.”
Lucía opened her eyes.
“I remember.”
Alejandro glanced at her.
“What?”
“I had two babies.”
Rafael looked back.
“Lucía…”
She continued.
“One was Isabella.”
“And the other was Daniel.”
Rafael nodded.
“Yes.”
“But they weren't born together.”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Rafael looked down.
“Daniel was born first.”
Lucía stared at him.
“How much earlier?”
“Almost a year.”
Alejandro's eyes widened.
“So the first pregnancy wasn't a miscarriage.”
Rafael shook his head.
“No.”
“They took him.”
“Yes.”
Lucía began crying.
“I remember giving birth.”
Her voice trembled.
“I remember holding him.”
Alejandro reached for her hand.
“What happened?”
“Elena told me he was sick.”
“She said he needed special treatment.”
Lucía wiped her tears.
“I believed her.”
“She took him away.”
Rafael nodded.
“But he survived.”
“And Isabella?”
“You became pregnant again after Daniel was taken.”
Lucía stared at him.
“Why don't I remember any of this?”
Rafael answered quietly:
“Because Elena erased it.”
The old Montero estate appeared at dusk.
A massive stone mansion stood on a hill surrounded by trees.
The windows were dark.
No guards were visible.
That was worse.
Mateo parked behind an abandoned barn.
“We go in through the east wing.”
Alejandro nodded.
“Everyone stays together.”
They entered through a service door.
Inside, the house smelled of dust and old wood.
Alejandro walked down the hallway.
Then stopped.
A portrait hung on the wall.
His grandfather.
Beside him—
Elena.
Young.
Beautiful.
And holding a newborn baby.
Alejandro stared.
“That's Daniel.”
Lucía stepped closer.
She touched the glass.
“I remember this.”
Beneath the portrait was a date.
Nine months before Isabella's birth.
Alejandro looked at Rafael.
“Why would Elena have a portrait of Daniel?”
Rafael didn't answer.
They continued.
At the end of the corridor was a locked door.
Mateo opened it.
The archive stretched for hundreds of feet.
Shelves.
Boxes.
Photographs.
Files.
Names.
Lives.
Alejandro began searching.
Then Lucía stopped.
She saw a box marked:
PROJECT MEMORY — SUBJECT A.
Her hands trembled.
“That's me.”
Alejandro opened it.
Inside were medical reports.
Psychological evaluations.
Photographs.
And a recording.
Mateo pressed play.
A younger Elena appeared on the screen.
She was sitting in a doctor's office.
“Subject Lucía is resistant.”
A male doctor answered:
“She remembers the boy.”
“Then increase the dosage.”
“She could die.”
Elena's voice became cold.
“Then make sure she doesn't remember why.”
Alejandro's face hardened.
The recording continued.
“Subject Alejandro is also showing resistance.”
Elena looked toward the camera.
“Separate them.”
The screen went black.
Lucía began shaking.
Alejandro held her.
Then they heard footsteps.
Everyone turned.
Elena stood at the entrance.
She was alone.
Her eyes were exhausted.
“Alejandro.”
He stared at her.
“Where is my son?”
Elena said nothing.
“Where is Daniel?”
“He's safe.”
“Where?”
“You won't understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
Alejandro stepped forward.
“You stole my children.”
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
“I saved them.”
“You erased their parents.”
“I protected you.”
“You destroyed my marriage.”
“I kept you alive.”
Alejandro laughed bitterly.
“You call this protection?”
Elena lowered her head.
“You don't know what Gabriel would have done.”
“Then why did you work for him?”
“I had no choice.”
“There is always a choice.”
Elena looked at Lucía.
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“Not when the person threatening you owns every judge, every hospital, every bank, every police commander in the city.”
Lucía stared at her.
“You could have told us.”
“And then watched you die?”
Elena shook her head.
“I couldn't.”
Alejandro's voice became cold.
“Where is Daniel?”
Elena looked toward the hallway.
“Downstairs.”
Alejandro moved.
Elena grabbed his arm.
“Don't.”
He pulled away.
“Why?”
“Because Daniel doesn't want to leave.”
Alejandro stopped.
“What?”
Elena looked at him.
“He thinks you abandoned him.”
Alejandro's heart broke.
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth.”
“What truth?”
Elena whispered:
“That his father forgot him.”
Alejandro stared at her.
“You made him hate me.”
“I made him survive.”
Before Alejandro could respond—
a voice came from the basement.
A young voice.
Calm.
Cold.
“You're too late.”
Alejandro turned.
Daniel stood at the bottom of the staircase.
Sixteen years old.
Black hair.
Brown eyes.
The same silver pendant.
He looked directly at Alejandro.
There was no fear in his eyes.
Only anger.
“You left me.”
Alejandro's heart shattered.
“No.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“You forgot me.”
“I was forced to forget.”
Daniel shook his head.
“That's what everyone says.”
Alejandro took one step toward him.
“Daniel…”
The boy raised a weapon.
“Don't come closer.”
Lucía began crying.
“My son.”
Daniel looked at her.
For the first time—
his expression changed.
“Mom?”
Lucía nodded.
“Yes.”
Daniel lowered the weapon slightly.
Then a gunshot exploded from behind.
Elena fell.
May you like
And Victor's voice echoed through the mansion:
“Enough family reunions.”
