Chapter 2 - The Beltrán Shadows
The Rolls-Royce sat at the curb like a predatory beast.
When the two men in dark suits entered, the air in the room didn't just grow heavy; it vanished.
They moved with the silent, terrifying grace of men who had never had to ask for a seat.
"Mariana Torres," the leader said.
"The boss wants to see you."
I tried to hide the tremors in my hands behind the fabric of my apron.
They knew my address.
They knew about my grandmother.
They knew everything.
The mansion in Lomas de Chapultepec was a citadel of fear.
Armed guards with stone-carved faces and high-tech weaponry surrounded the perimeter.
When I walked into the study, the silence wasn't empty—it was packed with the presence of Nicolás Beltrán.
He wasn't just a man; he was an atmosphere of quiet, lethal intent.
"You saved my sister and my nephew," he began.
He watched me, dissecting my fear, my hunger, and my desperate love for Sofía.
He laid out the timeline of my life as if he had authored it himself.
"What’s the price?" I asked, my voice holding steady.
He didn't blink.
"Valentina trusts you."
"I want you to be her private nurse until the baby is born."
"You’re not a normal businessman," I challenged.
"No," he agreed, the ghost of a smile dancing across his lips.
"I won't touch anything illegal," I declared.
"I'm a nurse. That’s all."
He leaned forward.
"That is exactly why I need you."
I accepted, but the contract was signed in blood, not ink.
As I moved into the Beltrán mansion, I realized the luxury was just a facade for the rot beneath.
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I was a nurse, yes, but I was also an accomplice in a house where the walls had eyes.
I was saving Sofía, but every night I heard the footsteps of guards outside my room, I wondered if I was simply trading one death sentence for another.
