“And after?”
“After, I confirmed who you were.”
She stared at him.
“So Mauricio was right. I was a case.”
“No.”
“What was I?”
His jaw tightened.
“At first, someone my father’s sins had touched.”
“And now?”
The question hung between them.
Inside, a glass shattered. Someone gasped. The band began packing instruments.
Alejandro stepped closer, but not too close.
“Now you are the woman I would burn my own house down to keep from being used again.”
Valeria wanted not to believe him.
It would have been easier.
But his voice had no performance in it. No polished charm. No Mauricio softness hiding rot underneath.
It sounded like a confession dragged from somewhere deep and unwilling.
That made it more dangerous.
Before she could answer, a scream came from upstairs.
Camila.
Valeria and Alejandro turned at once.
Another scream followed.
Then a bridesmaid stumbled onto the balcony above the reception hall.
“Help!” she cried. “She’s gone!”
The guests surged toward the staircase.
Doña Beatriz dropped her phone.
Valeria ran.
Alejandro reached the stairs beside her, his men appearing from nowhere behind him.
The bridal suite was chaos.
Makeup spilled across the vanity. The veil lay torn on the floor. One balcony door stood open, white curtains breathing in the night wind.
Camila’s dress was gone.
So was Camila.
On the mirror, written in red lipstick, were five words:
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED QUIET.
Valeria stopped in the doorway.