Chapter 1
The Millionaire Came Home on Christmas Eve and Found His Four Little Daughters Eating Moldy Bread While His New Wife Danced Downstairs Covered in Diamonds
"If they're hungry, they should learn how to look beautiful while they're suffering!"
That was the first thing Alejandro Santillán heard as he opened the side door of his mansion in Las Lomas on Christmas Eve, the night he thought he would finally embrace his daughters again.
He had just returned from Monterrey, exhausted, his jacket soaked by the cold rain and four gift bags hanging from his hands. For six months, he had been away closing business deals, opening new offices, and telling himself that everything he did was for them—Valeria, Camila, Regina, and Sofía, his five-year-old quadruplet daughters.
But when he stepped inside, the house didn't smell like Christmas punch or traditional holiday dishes.
It smelled like expensive liquor.
Loud banda music mixed with reggaeton thundered through the main living room. Strangers were dancing on the sofas, wine glasses lay scattered across the floor, rich mole sauce stained the imported Italian carpet, and an elaborate seafood tower had been crushed across the marble floor.
In the middle of it all, Jimena, his new wife, danced on top of the dining table wearing a shimmering gold dress and a diamond necklace Alejandro didn't remember buying.
"Merry Christmas, you little beggars!" she shouted, raising a bottle of champagne.
Alejandro stood frozen.
He had sent more than enough money for a peaceful family Christmas dinner. He had hired a private chef, nannies, a child psychologist, a nutritionist, bought gifts, winter clothes—everything.
Everything except his own presence.
Then his eyes drifted toward the hallway leading to the girls' rooms.
It was dark.
Far too dark.
Without saying a word, he walked down the hallway. With every step, the music faded behind him while the cold seemed to grow heavier. The family dining room door was closed. It was the same door Lucía, his first wife, had insisted on painting bright yellow because she always said, "Children should always know where the light is."
Alejandro opened it.
And his world shattered.
His four daughters sat quietly at the far end of the table wearing old nightgowns, their bare feet purple from the cold and their tiny shoulders slumped.
There was no turkey.
No hot chocolate.
No Christmas pastries.
Only a plastic plate holding several pieces of stale bread.
Some of them were covered with green mold.
Valeria, the bravest of the four, immediately placed both hands over the plate as if someone might take it away.
Camila began crying silently.
Regina lowered her head.
Sofía crawled underneath the table.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," Camila whispered. "We weren't going to eat very much."
Alejandro felt the air leave his lungs.
He knelt in front of Valeria.
"My sweetheart... who gave you this?"
Valeria swallowed hard.
"Mommy Jimena says we're getting chubby. She says if we eat like poor children, we'll grow up looking elegant."
Alejandro clenched his fists.
"Are you girls hungry?"
All four of them looked at him as though answering that question could get them into trouble.
Regina finally whispered,
"Yes... but we can wait until tomorrow."
The gift bags slipped from Alejandro's hands and crashed onto the floor.
He wanted to scream, smash something, storm back into the living room, and drag Jimena in front of every guest. But when he looked into his daughters' frightened eyes, he realized that his anger might scare them even more.
He slowly stood.
Then he walked back into the main living room.
Jimena noticed him too late.
Alejandro walked straight to the electrical panel and flipped the main breaker.
The music died instantly.
The entire mansion fell silent.
"The party is over," he said.
No one argued.
The guests quietly grabbed their coats, handbags, and phones before making their way toward the door.
Jimena stumbled down from the table.
"What is wrong with you? Are you really going to humiliate me in my own house?"
Alejandro looked at her as though she were a complete stranger.
"You let my daughters eat moldy bread."
Jimena rolled her eyes.
"Oh, please. You're always overreacting. Your daughters are manipulative. They cry over everything."
"They're five years old."
"And they've already learned how to play the victim."
Alejandro stepped closer.
"Get out."
Jimena let out a sarcastic laugh.
"Excuse me?"
"Get out of my house."
Her expression instantly changed.
"I'm your wife."
"You remembered that when you wanted access to my credit cards. You forgot it when you turned my daughters' hunger into a punishment."
Jimena clenched her jaw.
"You're going to regret this, Alejandro."
He opened the front door wide, and a blast of freezing wind swept inside.
"I already do," he replied. "I regret ever letting you get anywhere near my daughters."
Jimena stormed out screaming his name, but Alejandro never looked back.
After the last guest had finally left, he returned to the dining room.
The girls hadn't moved.
Just then, Doña Rosario, Lucía's longtime housekeeper, stepped out of the kitchen carrying a pot of hot soup.
The moment she saw Alejandro, her face turned pale.
"Sir... please don't scold the girls. I was going to sneak them some soup."
Alejandro felt the ground disappear beneath his feet.
His daughters weren't just hungry.
May you like
They were afraid to eat.
The rest of the story is below 👇
