Chapter 9 - The Money Isabella Never SpentThree point eight million euros.
Alejandro couldn't make the number fit beside the image of Isabella kneeling in garbage.
Money from his daughter's trust had paid for “specialist care” she never received.
“Behavioral intervention.”
“Private education.”
“International enrichment.”
“Protective residential planning.”
Each phrase existed on invoices.
Isabella had received none of it.
Alejandro and Helena reviewed eighteen months of transactions.
A €42,000 bill for equestrian therapy.
Isabella had never been on a horse.
€68,000 for a summer language immersion program.
She had spent that summer at the villa.
€114,000 in “specialized educational assessment.”
The only assessment Isabella remembered was Gabriel asking whether she loved her father.
€230,000 for “residential placement deposit.”
The Swiss school.
And dozens of smaller payments.
Beatriz had built theft out of respectable words.
Alejandro asked the question that shamed him most.
“How did I not see this?”
Helena answered gently.
“You delegated.”
“To whom?”
“Your family office.”
“And who approved distributions?”
“Your digital signature.”
Again.
Alejandro's jaw tightened.
He called the family office.
The controller produced authorization emails.
Many had come from Alejandro's account.
But the IP logs told another story.
The villa.
During periods when Alejandro was abroad.
Beatriz had used his computer.
His passwords.
His identity.
Alejandro gave everything to police.
By that evening, Beatriz was formally under investigation for fraud and forgery in addition to child mistreatment allegations.
Her attorney advised her to leave the villa voluntarily.
She refused at first.
Then police arrived with additional questions.
Beatriz packed.
Isabella watched from the upstairs landing.
Alejandro stood beside her.
“Do I have to say goodbye?”
“No.”
“Will she come back?”
“Not tonight.”
“Ever?”
Alejandro could not promise what courts would decide.
“She won't be allowed to hurt you again.”
Isabella studied him.
“You promise?”
Alejandro almost said yes immediately.
Then he stopped.
Promises had been cheap in the Reyes house.
“I promise I will listen.”
Isabella nodded.
That answer seemed to mean more now.
Beatriz appeared downstairs carrying two suitcases.
For a moment, she looked up.
Their eyes met.
Isabella stepped behind Alejandro.
Beatriz saw.
Something in her face broke.
Not remorse.
Not yet.
Loss of control.
“You've turned her against me,” Beatriz said.
Alejandro laughed once.
“You did that yourself.”
“I raised her for five years.”
“No. You managed her.”
“That is not fair.”
“You made her believe I didn't love her.”
Beatriz's eyes filled.
“She wanted you all to herself.”
“She was four when her mother died.”
“She never accepted me.”
“She was a child.”
“Children can manipulate.”
“So can adults.”
Beatriz stared.
“Your daughter is not innocent.”
Alejandro's expression changed.
“Careful.”
“She broke things. She lied. She stole my phone.”
“Why?”
“To call Lucía.”
“Then thank God she did.”
Beatriz shook her head.
“You have no idea what she says when you're not here.”
Alejandro almost smiled.
“I know exactly what she says.”
He held up the pink diary.
Beatriz went pale.
Isabella's fingers tightened around his shirt.
“You read that?”
“Yes.”
“She wrote lies.”
“Then you'll have no problem with investigators reading it too.”
Beatriz looked toward the door.
Her attorney touched her arm.
Time to leave.
She walked outside.
At the car, she turned once.
“Alejandro.”
He didn't answer.
“You're going to regret humiliating me.”
He stared.
The similarity to what she had done to Isabella was almost perfect.
Only Beatriz still believed humiliation was the worst thing that could happen to a person.
It wasn't.
Being unheard was worse.
The car disappeared.
That night, Isabella ate dinner at the kitchen island.
Not the formal dining room.
She asked for spaghetti.
Alejandro cooked.
Badly.
Lucía laughed at him.
Isabella laughed too.
For ten minutes, the villa sounded normal.
Then the doorbell rang.
A courier handed Alejandro an envelope.
No return address.
Inside was a printed photograph.
Isabella asleep in the downstairs storage room.
Taken at night.
Alejandro stared.
Someone had been inside.
On the back:
ASK BEATRIZ WHO TOOK THIS.
There was a second photograph.
Alejandro asleep in his bedroom.
Beatriz lay beside him.
May you like
The date printed at the bottom was from three months earlier.
And standing in the doorway behind them was Gabriel.
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