Chapter 2 — The File Hidden Beneath the Floor
Alejandro did not sleep that night.
He sat alone in the back of his armored SUV while the city passed beyond the darkened windows.
Mexico City glittered beneath him.
Thousands of lights.
Thousands of lives.
People laughing in restaurants.
Couples walking beneath streetlamps.
Families returning home.
The city looked normal.
His life no longer did.
He replayed Lucía's words again and again.
I didn't leave you.
Your mother threatened my baby.
Ask your brother where the baby really came from.
And then Valeria's final words.
Ask your brother where the baby really came from.
Alejandro closed his eyes.
His hands tightened around his phone.
There was one thing he couldn't stop thinking about.
The child.
His child.
For seven months, he had believed Lucía had betrayed him.
For seven months, he had allowed himself to believe that his wife had disappeared because she had chosen someone else.
And during those same seven months, she had been carrying his baby.
A baby he had never known existed.
The realization made him physically ill.
“Home, sir?” the driver asked.
Alejandro opened his eyes.
“No.”
He looked at the city ahead.
“Take me to the Montero residence.”
The driver hesitated.
“Your mother's house?”
“Yes.”
“It's almost midnight.”
“I know.”
The SUV changed direction.
Alejandro stared through the window.
He remembered the first time his mother had told him Lucía was cheating.
She had been crying.
Not angry.
Crying.
She had placed a photograph on the desk.
Lucía outside a private medical clinic.
A man standing beside her.
Elena had whispered:
“She has been lying to you.”
Alejandro had asked Lucía.
She had tried to explain.
He hadn't listened.
Then came the arguments.
The accusations.
The coldness.
The night she disappeared.
At the time, Alejandro thought those memories were proof of her betrayal.
Now they felt like pieces of a carefully constructed trap.
His phone vibrated.
A message from his investigator.
I need one hour. Do not confront anyone yet.
Alejandro typed:
Why?
The answer came almost immediately.
Because someone has already accessed your old records tonight.
Alejandro's stomach tightened.
Who?
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally:
I don't know yet. But they knew I was investigating before I called you.
Alejandro looked up.
“Stop the car.”
The driver immediately slowed.
“What happened, sir?”
“Check behind us.”
The driver looked into the rearview mirror.
A black SUV was several cars behind them.
Alejandro watched it.
It turned when they turned.
His driver noticed.
“Should I lose it?”
“Yes.”
The SUV accelerated.
Alejandro's instincts took over.
“Don't go home.”
The driver glanced at him.
“Where?”
“Somewhere secure.”
They turned sharply onto another avenue.
The black SUV followed.
Alejandro's pulse rose.
Someone was watching him.
And suddenly he wondered whether Lucía had been right to be afraid.
Twenty minutes later, they entered a private underground garage beneath one of Alejandro's office buildings.
The security gates closed behind them.
The black SUV never appeared.
Alejandro stepped out.
His head of security, Mateo Cruz, was waiting.
Mateo had worked for him for eleven years.
He was one of the few people Alejandro trusted without hesitation.
“What's happening?” Mateo asked.
Alejandro handed him the phone.
“Someone followed us.”
Mateo studied the message.
“Do you want me to increase security?”
“No.”
Mateo looked surprised.
“I want you to decrease it.”
“Sir?”
“From now on, nobody knows where I'm going.”
Mateo's expression hardened.
“Not even your family?”
“Especially not my family.”
Mateo studied his employer for a long moment.
Then nodded.
“I understand.”
Alejandro walked toward the private elevator.
“There's something else.”
“Yes?”
“Find out everything about the Gran Imperial Hotel.”
Mateo frowned.
“The hotel?”
“Ownership. Investors. Board members. Employees. Security contractors. Financial records.”
“All of it?”
“All.”
“And Lucía?”
Alejandro stopped.
His voice softened.
“Protect her.”
Mateo nodded.
“Does she know?”
“No.”
“Then how do I approach her?”
“You don't.”
Mateo frowned.
Alejandro turned around.
“Protect her without letting her know.”
“Understood.”
The elevator doors opened.
Alejandro stepped inside.
Before the doors closed, Mateo asked:
“And Valeria?”
Alejandro's face became expressionless.
“Find her.”
“Do you want her brought to you?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Watch her.”
The elevator doors closed.
Alejandro finally allowed himself to breathe.
He knew he had crossed a line.
There would be no going back.
For the first time in his life, he wasn't trying to protect his business.
He was trying to protect his family.
Even if his family had spent seven months destroying him.
At 1:17 a.m., Lucía was still awake.
The small employee room beneath the Gran Imperial was silent.
There was no luxury here.
No marble.
No chandeliers.
Just a narrow bed, a metal locker, a small table and a window facing a concrete wall.
Lucía sat on the edge of the bed.
One hand rested over her stomach.
The baby moved.
She smiled despite herself.
“Your father saw us today.”
Her voice trembled.
For months, she had imagined that moment.
She had imagined Alejandro finding her.
She had imagined him running toward her.
Holding her.
Asking where she had been.
But reality had been different.
He had looked at her with shock.
Then confusion.
Then suspicion.
She couldn't blame him.
He had been lied to.
But she was terrified.
Because Alejandro was now asking questions.
And questions were dangerous.
A soft knock came at the door.
Lucía froze.
Three knocks.
Pause.
Two knocks.
Her face went pale.
She knew that pattern.
It was the signal Marta had taught her.
Lucía opened the door.
Marta stood outside.
“Come with me.”
“Why?”
“Don't ask.”
Lucía hesitated.
Marta looked behind her.
“Now.”
Lucía followed.
They moved through a narrow service corridor.
Marta opened a door near the laundry room.
Inside was a tiny storage space.
She locked the door.
Then pulled a small envelope from beneath a stack of towels.
Lucía stared.
“What is that?”
“Something I should have given you six months ago.”
Lucía's hands began to shake.
“Why didn't you?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
Marta looked at her.
“Of dying.”
Lucía swallowed.
Marta handed her the envelope.
It was old.
Yellowed.
The edges were worn.
Lucía recognized the handwriting immediately.
Her husband's.
She stared at the name written across the front.
Lucía.
Her heart raced.
“Alejandro wrote this?”
Marta nodded.
“He left it here.”
“When?”
“The night before you disappeared.”
Lucía stared at her.
“That isn't possible.”
“I saw him.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me to give it to you if anything happened.”
Lucía's fingers trembled as she opened the envelope.
Inside was one folded sheet of paper.
She unfolded it.
Only four lines had been written.
Lucía,
I know something is wrong.
If my family tells you I abandoned you, don't believe them.
Trust no one.
Lucía stopped breathing.
She read it again.
And again.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I never received this.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Marta looked down.
“Because someone took it.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You must know.”
“I saw the person.”
Lucía grabbed her arm.
“Who?”
Marta's eyes filled with fear.
“Rafael.”
Lucía went still.
Alejandro's brother.
“He took the letter?”
Marta nodded.
“He came here the morning after Alejandro left.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Lucía looked at the letter.
Her entire understanding of the past shifted.
If Alejandro had known something was wrong before she disappeared, then perhaps—
perhaps he had been trapped too.
A sound came from outside.
Both women froze.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Approaching.
Marta immediately blew out the small lamp.
They stood in darkness.
The footsteps stopped outside the door.
Someone tried the handle.
Lucía covered her mouth.
The handle moved again.
Then a voice came through the door.
“Lucía?”
Her blood froze.
It was Valeria.
Marta looked at her.
Lucía shook her head.
Neither moved.
“Lucía, I know you're inside.”
Silence.
Valeria's voice changed.
“I'm not here to hurt you.”
Marta whispered:
“Don't believe her.”
The handle moved again.
Then Valeria spoke softly.
“You need to know something.”
Lucía's heart pounded.
“What?”
Valeria remained outside.
“Alejandro is investigating.”
Lucía closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“And if he finds the records…”
Valeria stopped.
“What records?”
No answer.
“Valeria?”
“I shouldn't have come.”
Footsteps moved away.
Lucía waited.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Then Marta unlocked the door.
The corridor was empty.
Lucía looked at her.
“What records?”
Marta's face had become gray.
“The pregnancy records.”
Lucía's hand went instinctively to her stomach.
“What about them?”
Marta looked terrified.
“They were altered.”
Lucía stared.
“Altered how?”
“I don't know.”
“You said they were pregnancy records.”
“They are.”
“Then what was changed?”
Marta lowered her voice.
“The father.”
Lucía's blood turned cold.
“What?”
“Your original medical file listed Alejandro Montero.”
Lucía's lips parted.
“Original?”
Marta nodded.
“Someone replaced it.”
“With what?”
Marta hesitated.
Then whispered:
“Unknown.”
Lucía felt the room spin.
She gripped the wall.
“Why would anyone change the father's name?”
Marta looked toward the corridor.
“Because whoever changed it didn't want Alejandro to know the baby was his.”
Lucía's eyes filled with tears.
She had spent seven months believing Alejandro didn't care.
Believing he had chosen to believe the worst about her.
But what if someone had deliberately erased the truth?
What if her pregnancy had been the reason she was hunted?
A sudden thought struck her.
“Where is the original file?”
Marta looked at her.
“I don't know.”
“Find it.”
“I can't.”
“Please.”
Marta hesitated.
Then said:
“There is a basement archive.”
Lucía's breathing stopped.
“Can we get inside?”
Marta looked at the clock.
“Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because the archive is monitored.”
“By whom?”
Marta's voice dropped.
“Rafael.”
At 2:03 a.m., Alejandro stood inside his mother's mansion.
The house was dark.
He had entered using an old security code.
The same code he had used since childhood.
He walked silently through the hallway.
Every photograph on the walls seemed to accuse him.
His father.
His mother.
Rafael.
Family vacations.
Business celebrations.
Christmas dinners.
And Lucía.
There were fewer photographs of her.
His mother had always disliked having Lucía's picture displayed.
Alejandro had never questioned it.
Now he wondered why.
He entered the study.
The room smelled exactly as he remembered.
Leather.
Wood.
Whiskey.
He turned on a desk lamp.
Then began searching.
He opened drawers.
Nothing.
Cabinet.
Nothing.
A locked compartment.
He broke the lock.
Inside were financial documents.
Trust agreements.
Property deeds.
Share certificates.
Then he found a folder.
His name was written on it.
ALEJANDRO MONTERO — PRIVATE
He opened it.
The first document was a power-of-attorney agreement.
The second was a transfer of shares.
The third—
Alejandro stopped.
A divorce settlement.
His heart began pounding.
He read the first page.
Petitioner: Lucía Montero
Respondent: Alejandro Montero
He stared.
The document claimed Lucía had requested a divorce.
It also claimed she had waived all financial rights.
But there was something wrong.
The signature at the bottom looked like hers.
Almost.
Alejandro took out his phone and photographed it.
Then he saw the date.
Seven months ago.
Two days before she disappeared.
His face hardened.
She had never asked for a divorce.
He knew that.
He had never received a divorce petition.
So why did this exist?
He continued reading.
Then saw something that made his blood run cold.
A clause concerning the unborn child.
The child would have no claim to Montero family assets unless Alejandro formally acknowledged paternity.
Alejandro stared at the sentence.
His breathing became shallow.
Someone had anticipated the pregnancy.
Before he even knew about it.
That meant the plan had been prepared in advance.
The document wasn't about ending a marriage.
It was about controlling a child.
His child.
A sound came from behind him.
Alejandro turned.
Rafael stood in the doorway.
For several seconds, the brothers stared at each other.
Neither spoke.
Then Rafael smiled.
“What are you doing here?”
Alejandro slowly closed the folder.
“Looking for the truth.”
Rafael's smile disappeared.
“About what?”
“My wife.”
Rafael stepped into the room.
“You mean your ex-wife?”
Alejandro's eyes hardened.
“She is my wife.”
“Not according to the papers.”
“Those papers are fake.”
Rafael laughed softly.
“You've finally lost your mind.”
Alejandro walked toward him.
“You knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That Lucía was pregnant.”
Rafael said nothing.
Alejandro saw the answer in his eyes.
“You knew.”
Rafael's jaw tightened.
“I knew she was unstable.”
“You knew she was pregnant.”
“She told us.”
“Us?”
Alejandro's voice became dangerous.
“Who is us?”
Rafael didn't answer.
“Mother?”
Silence.
“Valeria?”
Rafael looked away.
Alejandro stepped closer.
“Was Valeria involved?”
Rafael suddenly became angry.
“You have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Then explain the divorce papers.”
“I didn't create them.”
“Who did?”
Rafael stared at him.
Then whispered:
“You really don't remember.”
Alejandro felt a chill.
“Remember what?”
Rafael looked toward the desk.
“The night Lucía left.”
“What happened?”
Rafael shook his head.
“You should ask yourself why you don't remember.”
Alejandro grabbed his brother's collar.
“What happened?”
Rafael didn't fight back.
Instead, he smiled.
A cold, empty smile.
“Ask yourself what you signed.”
Alejandro released him.
“I already found the divorce papers.”
“No.”
Rafael shook his head.
“That's not the document I'm talking about.”
Alejandro stared.
“What did I sign?”
Rafael's eyes moved toward the locked cabinet.
“The transfer.”
“What transfer?”
“The one that would have given Mother control of your entire company.”
Alejandro froze.
“That document doesn't exist.”
Rafael smiled.
“It does.”
“Where?”
Rafael pointed toward the floor.
“Underneath you.”
Alejandro looked down.
The old wooden floor.
Nothing unusual.
Rafael walked away.
At the doorway, he stopped.
“One more thing.”
Alejandro turned.
Rafael looked at him.
“If you're investigating Lucía…”
His voice became almost sympathetic.
“Don't trust the hotel.”
Then he disappeared.
Alejandro stood alone.
He looked at the floor.
Then at the locked cabinet.
Something was hidden here.
Something important.
He dropped to his knees.
Ran his fingers along the wooden panels.
One moved slightly.
Alejandro pulled.
A narrow compartment opened.
Inside was a black metal box.
He lifted it out.
There was a combination lock.
Three numbers.
He thought for a moment.
Lucía's birthday.
No.
His mother's birthday.
No.
Then he remembered the date of his wedding.
He entered the numbers.
Click.
The lock opened.
Inside were three objects.
A USB drive.
A photograph.
And a handwritten note.
Alejandro picked up the photograph first.
His hands froze.
It showed Lucía.
Pregnant.
Standing outside the Gran Imperial Hotel.
But the photograph had been taken before she disappeared.
On the back was a date.
Seven months ago.
And beneath it, four words.
She knows about Valeria.
Alejandro's heart pounded.
He grabbed the USB drive.
Then opened the handwritten note.
There was only one sentence.
If Alejandro remembers, we all go to prison.
Alejandro stared at the words.
Then slowly looked toward the dark hallway.
For seven months, he had thought he was searching for a missing wife.
He had been wrong.
May you like
He was searching for a missing memory.
And someone had spent seven months making certain he never recovered it.
