Chapter 3 – The Recording That Changed Everything
The underground room fell silent.
Rain drummed against the mansion above, but deep beneath the estate, the only sound was the faint hum of the monitor.
Vivian Moretti's face filled the screen.
She looked immaculate.
Perfectly styled hair.
Flawless makeup.
The same confident smile she wore while destroying other people's lives.
She raised a glass of champagne toward the camera.
"Hello, Alejandro."
"If you're watching this..."
"...then my plan has failed."
She smiled wider.
"But don't celebrate yet."
"You'll never be able to prove everything."
The video cut to another angle.
Vivian was standing beside the very hospital bed now sitting in the hidden basement.
Elena lay unconscious, restrained by leather straps.
Alejandro staggered backward.
His breathing became uneven.
Marco reached out to steady him, but Alejandro pushed his hand away.
He couldn't look away from the screen.
Vivian continued speaking.
"You always believed Elena disappeared."
"You hired detectives."
"You searched half the world."
"But you never once searched your own home."
She laughed quietly.
"I suppose even billionaires have blind spots."
The room remained silent except for the recording.
Vivian walked slowly around Elena's unconscious body.
"You loved her."
"I envied her."
"You trusted me."
"I used that trust."
She leaned toward the camera.
"And that's why I won."
The recording jumped forward.
The date in the corner read:
September 14 — Three Years Earlier
Vivian entered Elena's bedroom carrying a silver tray.
On it sat a porcelain teacup.
She smiled warmly.
"Drink this."
"It will help with your headache."
Elena accepted the tea without suspicion.
After only a few sips, her vision blurred.
She tried to stand.
Her legs failed.
The teacup shattered on the floor.
Vivian calmly watched her collapse.
Then she whispered the words that still echoed in Elena's nightmares.
"I'm sorry."
"But there isn't room for two queens in this house."
The video ended abruptly.
Alejandro closed his eyes.
Every muscle in his body tightened.
"This wasn't kidnapping."
His voice was barely audible.
"It was premeditated."
Marco nodded.
"And carefully planned."
At St. Gabriel Medical Center...
Dr. Harrison stood outside Elena's room, staring through the glass.
His face was pale.
His hands trembled.
He had spent three years lying.
Three years signing false medical reports.
Three years convincing Alejandro that Elena had likely suffered amnesia somewhere overseas.
The guilt had become unbearable.
Alejandro walked toward him.
The doctor's shoulders slumped.
"I know."
Alejandro stopped only inches away.
"Tell me everything."
Dr. Harrison removed his glasses.
"I deserve prison."
"I didn't ask what you deserve."
"I asked what happened."
The doctor looked toward Elena sleeping peacefully inside.
Then he finally spoke.
"It started with blackmail."
Three years earlier...
Dr. Harrison's teenage daughter had been diagnosed with a rare heart condition.
The surgery cost nearly two million dollars.
Insurance refused to cover it.
Vivian approached him.
She offered the money.
In return...
He only had to sign several medical documents.
"It was supposed to last one week," Harrison whispered.
"She told me Elena only needed temporary psychiatric care."
"But every week became another month."
"And every month became another lie."
Alejandro's eyes darkened.
"Did you inject my wife?"
The doctor nodded.
"I administered medications."
"What medications?"
"Sedatives."
"Memory suppressants."
"Psychological conditioning drugs."
Alejandro closed his fists.
"Were they permanent?"
"No."
The doctor's voice cracked.
"Not if treatment stopped soon enough."
"But prolonged exposure..."
He couldn't finish the sentence.
Alejandro already understood.
His wife had spent three years slowly losing herself.
Not because she was mentally ill.
Because someone wanted her to become a stranger.
Inside Elena's hospital room...
She dreamed again.
She remembered being locked inside a small white room.
Every morning Vivian entered carrying breakfast.
Every morning she asked the same question.
"What is your name?"
"Elena Castillo."
The answer earned punishment.
No food.
No sunlight.
No sleep.
Again.
"What is your name?"
"Elena..."
Another injection.
Another beating.
Another day.
Weeks became months.
Eventually...
"What is your name?"
Elena whispered,
"...Number Twelve."
Vivian smiled.
"Very good."
The nightmare shattered as Elena woke screaming.
Alejandro rushed to her bedside.
She clutched his jacket.
"I tried..."
She sobbed.
"I tried so hard not to forget."
Alejandro held her gently.
"You didn't."
"You remembered me."
She shook her head.
"No..."
"I remembered..."
"...that someone loved me."
"I just couldn't remember who."
Alejandro buried his face against her hair.
For the first time in three years...
He cried openly.
Meanwhile...
Marco continued examining the basement.
One of the technicians finally managed to recover fragments from the erased surveillance drives.
Most of the files were corrupted.
Except one.
The timestamp read:
Eleven Days Ago.
The footage showed Vivian entering the basement.
She wasn't alone.
A tall man wearing a black suit followed her.
His face remained hidden beneath a cap.
He carried a thick folder marked with the Castillo Group logo.
The two stopped beside Elena's room.
Vivian spoke first.
"We're running out of time."
The man nodded.
"Alejandro is returning earlier than expected."
Vivian frowned.
"Then we'll accelerate the transfer."
"What about Elena?"
The man answered coldly.
"Once the ownership documents are signed..."
"...she becomes unnecessary."
The footage ended.
Marco replayed the final sentence.
Again.
And again.
Ownership documents?
Alejandro immediately understood.
"This was never only about me."
Marco nodded.
"They wanted the company."
"No."
Alejandro stared at the frozen image.
"They wanted everything."
The Castillo estate.
The international hotels.
The investment funds.
The charitable foundation.
The patents.
The shipping empire.
Over thirty billion dollars in assets.
Vivian had never wanted Alejandro's love.
She wanted his empire.
That evening...
Police arrived with warrants.
Vivian remained astonishingly calm.
As officers entered the mansion, she stood near the fireplace wearing another elegant dress.
"You finally called the police."
Alejandro looked at her without emotion.
"I should have done it years ago."
She smiled.
"You still don't understand."
"What?"
"You think I'm the mastermind."
She laughed softly.
"I'm not."
Alejandro's expression hardened.
"What are you talking about?"
Vivian stepped closer until only a few feet separated them.
Then she whispered,
"I didn't build this plan alone."
"There was someone inside your family."
Someone...
"...who hated Elena long before I ever met her."
Alejandro felt the floor disappear beneath his feet.
"My family?"
Vivian nodded.
"You trusted the wrong blood."
Before Alejandro could ask another question, a police officer hurried into the room.
"Mr. Castillo!"
"What is it?"
The officer's face had gone pale.
"You need to come to the hospital."
Alejandro's heart stopped.
"What happened to Elena?"
The officer swallowed hard.
"Someone just tried to kill her."
Outside...
An ambulance siren pierced the stormy night.
And across the street from the hospital...
A black sedan quietly drove away.
Its driver made a single phone call.
A calm male voice answered.
"Is it done?"
The driver looked through the rearview mirror.
"No."
There was a long silence.
Then the man replied with chilling certainty.
"Then we'll finish it ourselves."
The call disconnected.
For the first time...
May you like
Alejandro realized he wasn't fighting one ruthless woman.
He was facing a conspiracy that reached far deeper than he had ever imagined.
