Chapter 6 - THE DEATHS THEY CALLED NATURAL
I wanted to dismiss Ofelia’s claim as desperation.
Then she showed me the hospital records.
Not complete records.
Copies.
Two pages from my father’s final admission and three from Arturo Ruiz’s.
Both men had been treated at the same private clinic.
Both had been attended by the same consulting physician.
Dr. Rafael Cárdenas.
The same doctor Mauricio wanted me to see.
I called Elena immediately.
Within an hour, she was at my condo with an investigator.
Ofelia sat across from us.
For the first time since I had known her, she seemed to understand that arrogance would not save her.
“Start from the beginning,” Elena said.
Ofelia twisted a tissue between her fingers.
“Arturo and I met when I was twenty-two.”
She explained the affair.
Mauricio was born.
Arturo never publicly acknowledged him, but money arrived regularly.
Years later, Arturo became obsessed with acquiring Ernesto’s stake.
“Why?” I asked.
“The city expansion.”
“That wasn’t public then.”
“Arturo knew people.”
Of course.
“He offered Ernesto money,” she continued. “Ernesto refused. Then Arturo asked me to persuade him.”
“How did you know my father?”
“He bought scrap from my brother.”
The world felt smaller with every answer.
“I talked to Ernesto several times. He never trusted me.”
“He was right.”
Ofelia accepted that.
“Eventually Arturo stopped trying. But Sebastián didn’t.”
“When did Sebastián become involved?”
“After Arturo got sick.”
“What kind of sick?”
“Headaches. Confusion. Weakness.”
Elena and I exchanged a look.
“And Cárdenas treated him?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Arturo wanted to reconcile with Ernesto and dissolve some old business arrangements. Sebastián was furious.”
“Why?”
“Because if Ernesto exercised the option, Sebastián would lose control.”
There it was.
Control.
The same obsession behind everything.
“What about my father?”
Ofelia looked at the photograph on my table.
“Ernesto was diagnosed with cancer.”
“I know.”
“But he deteriorated faster than expected.”
My throat tightened.
I remembered those final weeks.
My father forgetting conversations.
Sleeping constantly.
Vomiting.
We blamed chemotherapy.
We blamed cancer.
We blamed death because death was already coming.
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m saying Cárdenas visited him.”
I stood.
“No.”
“Valeria—”
“No.”
My father had never told me.
But perhaps that was exactly why.
He spent his entire life protecting me from burdens he thought were his to carry.
The investigator asked Ofelia for dates.
She provided what she remembered.
That night, I barely slept.
The next morning, preliminary testing on the supplements came back.
They contained a prescription sedative not listed on the label.
Not enough to knock me unconscious.
Enough to cause fatigue, confusion, impaired concentration, and memory problems with regular use.
I had taken them for eleven days.
Suddenly the gastritis attack that sent me home felt almost miraculous.
If I had remained at work, Ofelia might have cleaned the shrine, photographed my reaction later, and continued the plan.
Instead, I walked in while she was doing it.
The investigation widened.
Search warrants followed.
Dr. Cárdenas’s clinic became a crime scene.
Sebastián Ruiz stopped answering calls.
Mauricio called me twenty-seven times.
I answered the twenty-eighth.
“Did you know the supplements were drugged?”
“No!”
“Did you know I was being given something?”
“I thought it was for anxiety.”
“I never had anxiety medication.”
“Fernanda said—”
“Fernanda?”
Silence.
He had just contradicted himself.
“You knew she was involved.”
“Vale, please.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“I love you.”
I almost felt sorry for him.
Not because he deserved sympathy.
Because he had reduced the word love to something so pathetic.
“You loved living here.”
“No.”
“You loved my money.”
“No.”
“You loved believing that one day everything my father built would become yours.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Then sign the divorce papers without requesting a cent.”
Silence.
Exactly.
I hung up.
That afternoon, Elena received notice that Sebastián had filed an emergency corporate action challenging my attempt to exercise Ernesto’s option.
“He moved fast,” I said.
“He’s scared.”
“Good.”
The hearing was scheduled within days.
If we won, I could take majority control of the company.
If we lost, Sebastián retained control and gained time to bury evidence.
I spent the next forty-eight hours preparing.
The night before the hearing, someone broke into my condo.
They didn’t steal jewelry.
They didn’t take electronics.
They went directly to my father’s photograph.
But I had moved the original documents to Elena’s secure office.
The intruder found nothing.
Building cameras captured a man wearing a maintenance uniform.
Security footage showed something else.
A black SUV waiting outside.
Registered to a subsidiary of Ruiz Holdings.
The next morning, I walked into court wearing my father’s old watch.
It was cheap.
Scratched.
Far too large for my wrist.
I didn’t care.
Sebastián Ruiz sat across the aisle in a tailored navy suit.
He was fifty-two, silver-haired, controlled.
He looked at me as though I were an administrative inconvenience.
When our eyes met, he smiled.
Then his attorney argued that Ernesto’s option was invalid.
Elena dismantled the argument clause by clause.
The judge requested the original agreement.
We provided it.
Sebastián’s attorney requested a recess.
Denied.
Then Elena introduced proof of Arturo’s unauthorized borrowing.
The trigger condition.
Sebastián stopped smiling.
Two hours later, the judge issued temporary enforcement preserving my right to exercise the option pending final review.
It wasn’t complete victory.
But it was enough.
Outside the courthouse, reporters surrounded Sebastián.
I tried to leave quietly.
He stepped into my path.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
Security moved closer.
I looked at him.
“My father apparently did.”
His smile vanished.
“You think Ernesto was smarter than Arturo?”
“I think Ernesto understood something your family never did.”
“What?”
“That owning less with integrity is better than stealing everything.”
Sebastián leaned closer.
“This ends badly for you.”
A camera caught every word.
I smiled.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For threatening me in front of six reporters.”
His face changed.
I walked away.
That evening, the story ran online.
DEVELOPMENT EXECUTIVE THREATENS BUSINESS PARTNER’S HEIR OUTSIDE COURT.
By midnight, two investors suspended negotiations with Ruiz Holdings.
By morning, three board members requested an emergency meeting.
And at nine seventeen, Elena called.
“Valeria.”
“What happened?”
“Police arrested Dr. Cárdenas.”
I sat upright.
“For the supplements?”
“Among other things.”
Her voice became quieter.
“They searched his records.”
“And?”
“They found a file on your father.”
I closed my eyes.
“What was in it?”
“A handwritten note.”
“What did it say?”
May you like
Elena paused.
“‘E.M. refuses transfer. Increase dosage.’”
