Chapter 13 - The Last Person She Expected
Laura listened to the message three times.
Not because she needed to.
Because she could hear him trying to pull her back into a private conversation.
A secret.
A bargain.
Something only he could give her.
She sent it to Nora instead.
Then she turned the phone off.
The next morning, Daniel answered the question Marcos had tried to sell her.
“There was a second person involved in the studio sale.”
Laura’s stomach tightened.
“The buyer?”
“Someone who certified documents and helped route the closing instructions.”
He placed a name in front of her.
Simon Reed.
Laura knew him.
He had attended their wedding.
Sent flowers after the accident.
Sat at her kitchen table and told her she was brave.
He was also the business adviser Marcos had recommended when she sold the studio.
Laura looked at Nora.
“Was any of it real?”
Nora let the question stand for a moment.
“Your work was real. Your care was real. Their choices don’t change that.”
Laura wanted to believe her.
Not immediately.
But she wanted to.
Simon called that afternoon.
He spoke in the same soothing voice she remembered.
“Laura, I understand there’s been some confusion.”
She stood in the doorway of Elena’s spare room.
“No confusion.”
“Marcos was under extraordinary pressure.”
“So was I.”
“I’d hate to see a private family matter turn into something destructive.”
“It stopped being private when you helped move my money.”
Silence.
Then: “You need to be careful with accusations.”
“My attorney has the records.”
He ended the call.
Laura sent a note to Nora with the time and everything she remembered.
She no longer trusted herself to keep important things only in her head.
Two days later, Nora learned that Simon’s attorney had contacted investigators.
Marcos’s message had been a threat.
It had also been a mistake.
He had reminded Laura to look beyond him.
And the man who helped him had no interest in going down quietly.
By Friday, the house sale was formally on hold.
The disputed accounts were under review.
A court date had been scheduled.
Laura should have felt relief.
Instead, she felt exhausted.
That evening, she went to the villa with Elena to collect a final load of belongings.
Marcos was supposed to be elsewhere.
His car wasn’t in the driveway.
Inside, the house was quiet.
Laura found her favorite sketchbook on the kitchen counter.
Open.
A glass of water sat beside it.
Then the terrace door slid shut behind her.
May you like
Marcos stood between her and the hallway.
“I knew you’d come for that,” he said.
