Chapter 2 - THE MAN FROM THE LAKE HOUSE
I grabbed both boys.
“Get up.”
Sergio moved faster.
So did I.
I shoved Eduardo and Tomás behind me and stepped directly into the aisle.
“Sergio.”
He stopped.
For fifteen years, that man had called me Mrs. Rinaldi and lowered his eyes whenever I entered a room.
That night, he looked at me like I was an obstacle.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Working.”
“At my husband’s charity gala?”
“Mr. Rinaldi asked me to help with security.”
His eyes shifted toward Tomás.
Just once.
It was enough.
I stepped sideways and blocked his view.
“What’s inside your jacket?”
Sergio smiled.
“Phone.”
“Show me.”
His smile disappeared.
“Beatriz.”
Only a handful of people called me by my first name without permission.
Sergio had never been one of them.
“Show me your hands.”
He didn’t.
Instead, he leaned closer.
“The boy is confused.”
Tomás pressed against my back.
Sergio continued.
“He ran away this morning. His father has been worried sick.”
I nearly laughed.
“His father?”
Sergio realized his mistake.
Too late.
I stared at him.
“Who is his father?”
Sergio’s jaw tightened.
Behind me, Eduardo whispered, “Mom.”
“Not now.”
“Mom, he has something.”
I glanced back.
Tomás was pointing at Sergio’s jacket.
A corner of black plastic stuck out near the zipper.
A stun gun.
My stomach dropped.
Sergio saw where I was looking.
He reached inside.
I slammed my palm against the nearest table.
“SECURITY!”
Glasses rattled.
Guests turned.
Two hotel guards moved toward us.
Sergio cursed under his breath and stepped back.
I pointed.
“Take him to the private conference room. Search him.”
“Mrs. Rinaldi, I think—”
“I don’t care what you think.”
One guard took Sergio’s arm.
He jerked away.
That was when the entire ballroom noticed.
Lorenzo noticed too.
From the stage, my husband’s smile vanished.
He handed the microphone to an assistant and started toward us.
Eduardo grabbed my sleeve.
“Mom, we have to go.”
“Go where?”
“Away from Dad.”
That sentence hurt more than anything else so far.
I stared at my son.
“What happened at the lake house?”
His face changed.
Fear.
Guilt.
Anger.
All of it mixed together.
“Dad took me there three months ago.”
I turned toward Lorenzo.
He was pushing through the crowd now.
“What did you see?”
Eduardo lowered his voice.
“A locked basement.”
Tomás shut his eyes.
“And?”
“A mattress.”
My son started crying.
“And Tomás.”
I couldn’t speak.
Eduardo continued.
“Dad caught me talking to him.”
“What did he do?”
“He dragged me outside.”
Guests whispered around us.
Lorenzo was less than thirty feet away.
“What did he tell you?”
Eduardo looked at me.
“He said Tomás was his son.”
Twenty feet.
“And then?”
“He told me if I ever told you, he’d send Tomás somewhere nobody would find him.”
Ten feet.
Lorenzo’s voice cut through the room.
“Beatriz.”
I turned.
My husband stopped in front of me.
His eyes went directly to Tomás.
Then to Eduardo.
Then back to me.
For the first time in twenty years of marriage, Lorenzo Rinaldi looked terrified.
Not surprised.
Terrified.
I whispered, “Tell me he’s lying.”
Lorenzo stared at me.
May you like
Then he said the five words that changed everything.
“We need to talk privately.”
