Forty-eight hours after I asked my father to freeze our investment, Álvaro called me eleven times.
I answered none of them.
At nine in the morning, my father summoned me to the thirty-second floor.
He wasn’t alone.
Our legal director was there.
So was the head of internal audit.
And in the center of the table lay a folder with Álvaro’s company logo.
My father pointed at the chair.
—Sit down, Sofia.
I knew that tone.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The auditor slid several documents toward me.
—Six months ago, Montes Arquitectura requested authorization for a corporate restructuring.
I frowned.
—Through our investment fund?
—Yes.
—Who approved it?
He hesitated.
—Technically, you did.
I looked up sharply.
—Impossible.
He turned the page.
There was my digital signature.
My full legal name.
Sofía Valdés Serrano.
Not the shortened name I used in everyday life.
Not the identity Álvaro believed belonged to an ordinary administrative employee.
My real name.
I stared at it.
—He knew.
My father didn’t answer.
That silence frightened me more than confirmation.
—Álvaro knew who I was.
The legal director leaned forward.
—Someone inside his company definitely did.
He showed me another document.
A proposed transfer of twenty-four percent of voting rights.
The beneficiary company had an unfamiliar name.
Ferrer Capital SL.
My stomach tightened.
—Lucía.
The auditor nodded.
—She owns fifty-one percent.
I almost laughed.
—So Álvaro transfers part of his company to his first love, proposes to me, and somehow my signature appears on the documents.
My father looked at me carefully.
—There’s more.
Of course there was.
There was always more.
The auditor placed a bank statement in front of me.
The enormous transfer I had received anonymously the night of the proposal was real.
But the money hadn’t originated from Álvaro’s architecture business.
It had come from a subsidiary linked to Grupo Valdés.
My family’s money.
Someone had moved it through three companies before sending it to Lucía.
—How much is missing? I asked.
—At least 4.7 million euros.
My fingers went cold.
—And you think Álvaro stole it?
—We don’t know yet.
My father spoke for the first time.
—But someone wants it to look like he did.
I looked at him.
—Why?
He slid another sheet toward me.
It was an email.
Sent from Álvaro’s corporate address.
To a financial consultant.
“Once Sofia signs the marriage papers, proceed with phase two.”
I stopped breathing.
The date was three weeks earlier.
Before the proposal.
I stood up.
—I need to see him.
My father frowned.
—That’s not advisable.
—I spent seven years sharing a bed with this man.
I held up the email.
—I deserve to hear him lie to my face.
An hour later, I entered Álvaro’s office without warning.
His assistant stood up.
—Miss Sofia—
—Where is he?
She pointed toward the conference room.
I opened the door.
Álvaro was inside.
So was Lucía.
And two lawyers.
Everyone froze.
Álvaro stood immediately.
—Sofia.
Lucía looked surprisingly calm.
That annoyed me.
I dropped the folder on the table.
—Which one of you wants to explain why 4.7 million euros belonging to my family passed through this company?
Silence.
Álvaro’s face changed.
Not because I had mentioned the money.
Because I had said “my family.”
He stared at me.
—What did you say?
Lucía slowly turned toward him.
And that was when I realized something.
She hadn’t known either.
I smiled bitterly.
—My name is Sofía Valdés Serrano.
His face drained of color.
—Valdés… as in—
—Grupo Valdés.
Nobody spoke.
Álvaro sat down.
For the first time in seven years, he looked genuinely speechless.
—You…
He swallowed.
—You’re Javier Valdés’s daughter?
—Yes.
His eyes moved across my face as if he were trying to find the woman he thought he knew.
—For seven years?
—For seven years.
—Why didn’t you tell me?
I laughed.
—Interesting question from you.
I pushed the documents toward him.
—Explain this first.
Álvaro grabbed the email.
His expression darkened.
—I didn’t write this.
—It’s from your account.
—I don’t care.
He shoved the page away.
—I have never seen it.
Lucía suddenly spoke.
—Neither have I.
I turned toward her.
—Then why is Ferrer Capital receiving money?
Her expression tightened.
—Because Álvaro invested in my company.
—I transferred you almost five million?
Álvaro snapped his head toward her.
—Five million?
Lucía went pale.
That reaction wasn’t acting.
At least I didn’t think so.
Álvaro stood.
—Sofia, the only transfer I approved was six hundred thousand euros.
I stared at him.
—Six hundred thousand is still a secret.
—Yes.
His voice dropped.
—And I was going to tell you.
—When? After our wedding?
His face hardened.
—I invested because Lucia’s company developed software we needed.
—And the heart you left under her post?
He closed his eyes briefly.
—That was stupid.
—That’s your explanation?
—No.
He stepped closer.
—My explanation is that I proposed because I wanted to marry you.
I laughed.
—And then abandoned me five minutes later.
—Because she called saying someone had broken into her apartment.
I froze.
Lucía looked at me.
—That’s why I called.
She pulled out her phone.
There were photographs.
A broken door.
Files scattered across the floor.
A smashed laptop.
Someone had searched the entire place.
Álvaro continued.
—She wasn’t having an anxiety attack.
—I lied because I didn’t want you involved.
I stared at him.
—You lied to protect me?
—No.
His expression became grim.
—I lied because whoever broke into her apartment left something behind.
Lucía opened her handbag.
She placed a photograph on the table.
My stomach dropped.
It was a picture of me.
Taken outside the restaurant the night Álvaro proposed.
Written across the bottom in black ink were four words:
MAKE HER SAY YES.
I stopped breathing.
Álvaro’s voice became quieter.
—That appeared on Lucia’s kitchen table.
I looked from him to her.
—Why didn’t you tell me?
—Because I didn’t know who you really were.
He laughed without humor.
—And apparently I still don’t.
Before I could answer, the conference room door opened.
A man from my father’s security team entered.
His face was serious.
—Miss Valdés, your father wants you downstairs immediately.
—Why?
He hesitated.
—Someone accessed your family’s private archive this morning.
My blood ran cold.
—What was taken?
He looked directly at Álvaro.
—A copy of an old investment agreement involving Montes Arquitectura.
Álvaro frowned.
—What agreement?
The security officer handed me a photograph of the missing file label.
I read the date.
Seven years ago.
The same month Álvaro and I started dating.
My hands began trembling.
Then I saw the name written underneath.
Not Álvaro’s.
Not Lucía’s.
My father’s.
And below his signature was another one.
My eyes lifted slowly toward Álvaro.
Because the second signature belonged to his late father.
Across the top of the document were the words:
CONFIDENTIAL SUCCESSION AGREEMENT — SOFÍA VALDÉS / ÁLVARO MONTES.
Álvaro stared at it.
—What the hell is that?
I looked at him.
And for the first time since this nightmare began, I believed him.
He didn’t know.
Which meant someone had planned our relationship before either of us understood what was happening.
And suddenly the seven years Álvaro and I had called love began to look like something much more dangerous.
A transaction.
