“No.” My voice shook, but this time it did not break. “You needed me to forget.”
Alejandro closed his eyes.
For the first time, his calmness cracked—not into rage, but grief.
The man who had survived twelve months in a hostile deployment looked suddenly wounded by the realization that the danger had been waiting inside his childhood home.
Then his phone rang.
The screen showed a restricted military number. Quinn allowed him to answer on speaker.
“Captain Ruiz,” a man said. “This is Special Agent Grant with Army Criminal Investigation. Is Sergeant Quinn present?”
The room became still.
Quinn identified herself.
Grant continued. “We have detained Lieutenant Colonel Marcus Vale in connection with falsified casualty communications, obstruction of official correspondence, and financial fraud. We believe he had a civilian accomplice at Captain Ruiz’s residence.”
Doña Victoria’s knees nearly gave way.
Alejandro’s voice became barely audible. “Colonel Vale is my godfather.”
“He was also the administrator of your late father’s estate,” Grant replied. “Captain, there is more. Your mother’s name appears on transfers from the estate trust totaling over four million dollars.”
Victoria lunged for the phone.
An officer caught her wrist before she reached it.
She stopped pretending.
The tears vanished. Her spine straightened. Her face became cold, almost regal.
“You ungrateful boy,” she said to Alejandro. “Everything I did was to preserve what your father built.”
“By drugging my wife?”
“By preventing a foolish girl from handing the company to strangers.”
I stared at her. “What company?”