Andrés Salazar had been staring at the screen for exactly seven hours. Seven hours in a hotel room in Madrid. Five thousand kilometers away. The trembling in his hands wasn’t fatigue, it was icy certainty.
In the digital image, the main room of his own house, the truth unfolded. Gabriela, his fiancée, moved. Quickly. Efficiently. In the kitchen, backlit, the scene was a silent horror.
Doña Carmela, seventy-two years old, was already tied to the chair. Her pleas were like broken threads that barely reached the microphone. Tears streamed down her wrinkled skin. Gabriela just smiled. A smile she had never seen before. Cold. Amused. The knot of the rope tightened.
To one side, Esteban, the loyal gardener, was on his knees, tied to the wall. A dirty rag gagged his mouth. His silence was a mute scream in the surveillance system.
Andrés turned up the volume.
“You two,” Gabriela’s voice was like an icy blade. “Always looking at me. As if I weren’t enough for him.” She paused. “Now we’ll see. We’ll see who’s in charge here when the boss isn’t around.”
Doña Carmela tried to speak, a hoarse groan. Gabriela slapped her. A sharp blow. The sound echoed through Andrés’s speakers. The air ran out in his lungs.
This was the woman. The woman he would kiss at the altar in three weeks. The woman of eternal vows. A predator. And he, blind, helpless, a continent away. He watched as the truth flayed every promise, every soft word she had given him. The pain wasn’t physical. It was the death of a hope.
Three months earlier, the light of the Guadalajara sunset was conspiratorial. Andrés, fifty-eight years old. She, thirty-nine. Gabriela laughed. A crystalline laugh. It was the sound that made her forget ten years of widowhood. He met her at an auction. A navy blue dress. Effortless elegance.
“He has a good eye for art,” he had told her.
That simple phrase ignited something in him. Something he thought was just ashes. A spark. An awakening.
The weeks were a whirlwind. Dinners by the lake. Conversations until dawn. She, an interior designer. Projects in Monterrey. Always kind. Always gentle. He couldn’t believe his luck. After so long, someone was seeing him again.
Two months later, he proposed. Under the jacaranda trees his late wife had planted. Gabriela cried. Or seemed to cry. She said yes. She hugged him. The world made sense again.
But the house held secrets.
Doña Carmela had been there for twenty-two years. She had cleaned every corner with devotion. From the first day Gabriela set foot in the mansion, she felt the chill. Something about that look was off. A smile that was too practiced.
One afternoon, in the kitchen. The telephone. Gabriela didn’t see the old woman come in.
“I already told you. It will be in three months.” His voice was harsh. Different. “After the wedding, everything will be mine. I just have to put up with this ridiculous old man a little longer.”
Carmela froze. The silence grew heavy. Gabriela hung up. She turned around. Their eyes met.
“Do you need anything, Doña Carmela?” The soft voice. Disconcerting.
“No, miss. I only came for water.”
The old woman came out. Her legs were trembling. She had to warn him.
The next day, with Gabriela out, Carmela knocked on the office door. Her knuckles trembled.
“Don Andrés. I need to speak with you. It’s about Miss Gabriela.”
Andrés looked up. His expression turned to stone.
“I heard her on the phone,” Carmela’s voice broke. “She said terrible things. She said she’s just waiting for them to get married. So she can take everything.”
Andrés looked at her. Without emotion.
“Carmela. I appreciate you. But I won’t allow you to speak about my fiancée like that.” His voice was firm. Like a whip crack.
Carmela felt the ground sinking.
“I would never lie to you, Don Andrés.”
“You misheard, then.” He went back to his papers. “Gabriela loves me. I love her. I won’t let anyone doubt that.”
Defeated, the old woman left. She knew she had lost. That Andrés’s blindness was absolute.
That same afternoon, Esteban was pruning the rose bushes. Gabriela approached.
“Esteban. You are close to Doña Carmela.”
“Yes, miss. Many years working together.”
“Well, tell him to be careful what he says. Not to make up stories about me. If he keeps this up, things could get very difficult. For both of us. Do you understand?” Her eyes were hard. Lifeless.
Esteban tightened his grip on the pruning shears.
“Doña Carmela is a good woman. She doesn’t make anything up.”
Gabriela bent down. A predator.
“Well, make sure he doesn’t open his mouth again. Is that clear?”
The gardener just stared at her. A silent challenge. She turned around. Her heels clicked against the stones. He let out a breath. The danger was real.
One morning, the call. Urgent investment in Spain. Two weeks away. Maybe three. Andrés hugged Gabriela.
“I’ll be back on time. I promise.”
She nodded. But her expression had changed. A shadow.
That night, while packing, the doubt. Small. Persistent. It said terrible things. Carmela’s voice.
The next morning, before going to the airport. The decision. Cameras. In the living room. In the kitchen. In the hallways. Small. Invisible.
“No one should know. Not even my fiancée.”
The technician installed everything. He gave him remote access. Andrés paid in cash.
He said goodbye with a kiss on the cheek.
“Take care of yourself.”
“You too, my love. I’m going to miss you.” Her eyes were empty.
On the plane, flying over the Atlantic. Andrés opened his laptop. Everything normal. Gabriela was flipping through a magazine. Carmela was cleaning. Esteban was pruning. He began to feel ridiculous. Unfair. Paranoid.
Day Three. Madrid. Meeting. Her phone vibrated. Camera system alert. Movement detected in multiple areas.
She left the boardroom. She opened the app. The kitchen. Gabriela was screaming.
“You and that stupid gardener think you can ruin me!”
Carmela was crying.
“I’m going to show them who’s in charge today. And when Andrés comes back, he won’t find them there. I’ll say they quit. He’ll believe me. Like he always does.”
Andrés’s brain stopped. His blood ran cold. His hands trembled. Gabriela returned with ropes. Thick ropes.
“You should have kept your mouth shut when I warned you.”
Esteban entered. Seeing the ropes, he tried to run. She was faster. Pepper spray. Right in the eyes. Esteban screamed. He fell to his knees. Pure pain.
Gabriela pushed him against the wall. She tied him up. Then she tied up Carmela. With brutal force.
Andrés stared. Paralyzed.
The woman who was going to be his wife. Shattering his world.
She closed the app. Nausea. She reopened it. She needed confirmation. There it was. Gabriela pacing around them. Contempt. Psychological torture.
Call the police. Yes. She dialed the number. It stopped. The scandal. She would know. She needed a plan.
She ran to the room. Laptop. Large screen. Gabriela had left. Carmela was crying silently. Esteban’s eyes were swollen.
He called his lawyer in Guadalajara.
“Attorney Méndez. I need you to come to my house right now. It’s an emergency.”
The lawyer, Méndez, noticed the urgency.
“My fiancée attacked my employees. She has them tied up in the kitchen. Be careful. I don’t want her to know anyone is coming.”
“I’m going there. Forty minutes with traffic.”
Andrés looked at the screen. Gabriela returned. With a glass of water. She handed it to Carmela.
“Are you thirsty?” Mocking voice.
Carmela nodded. Desperate.
Gabriela smiled. She threw the water on the floor.
“Well, learn not to meddle in things that don’t concern you.”
Andrés hung up. Helplessness. Thousands of kilometers. The guilt was an unbearable weight.
Twenty minutes. Gabriela in the office. Opening drawers violently. Documents flew out. She pulled out deeds. Contracts. She quickly reviewed them. Some were torn. Others went into a bag.
Stealing. Preparing for the escape. The whole plan. Marry. Steal. Destroy.
Andrés took screenshots of everything. Evidence. She would try to twist the story. He wouldn’t let her.
Every second. Clearer. Self-hatred. Blind. Stupid.
Minutes later. Gabriela in the kitchen. With a knife.
“No, no, no,” murmured Andrés.
He stood in front of Esteban. Face to face. The knife near his face.
“If either of you says anything when Andrés gets back, I’ll find you and kill you. Did you hear me?” Cold voice. Calm. Absolutely believable.
Carmela sobbed louder.
“We won’t say anything. We swear.”
“You’d better. I know people who can make people disappear. They’re just two old employees. Nobody will miss them.”
Andrés clenched his fists. This woman wasn’t just a con artist. She was dangerous. He’d let her into his home.
He cut Carmela’s ropes. The old woman almost fell.
“Get up,” he ordered.
He dragged her to the sink.
“Wash your face. And if you open your mouth when Mr. Méndez arrives, I swear you’ll regret it.”
Andrés felt his blood run cold. How did he know about the lawyer?
She had access to everything. Phone. Emails. He’d given her the passwords. So you know I have nothing to hide. He’d been an idiot. An architect of his own destruction.
He cut Esteban’s ropes.
“Go to the garden. Act normal. If the lawyer asks, say everything is fine.”
Esteban just looked at her with pure hatred.
“Understood?”
Esteban nodded. He left limping.
Carmela washed her face. Gabriela was beside her, looking in the mirror.
“Remember. One word, just one, and I’ll destroy you.”
Carmela left with her head down.
Gabriela alone. She put away the knife. She fixed her hair. Lip gloss. Two minutes. The perfect bride. The human mask.
The doorbell rang. Méndez.
Gabriela walked to the door. Radiant smile.
“It’s great to see you. Andrés didn’t tell me he was coming.”
The lawyer, gray-haired, with thick glasses. A puzzled look.
“He called me. He said there was an emergency.”
“An emergency,” Gabriela laughed. Perfectly modulated. “Oh, my fiancé is such a drama queen. Everything’s fine. Would you like to come in?”
Andrés shouted at the screen. Don’t believe him! Useless.
Méndez drank coffee.
“Andrés has been a little stressed lately. Sometimes he imagines things.”
“Can I speak with Mrs. Carmela?”
“Of course.”
Gabriela went to Carmela’s room. She closed the door.
“The lawyer wants to speak with you. Remember what I told you. Just one word.”
The two of them went into the hallway. Carmela was trembling.
Méndez stood up.
“Doña Carmela, how are you?” Genuine concern.
Carmela glanced sideways at Gabriela.
“Okay, sir. Everything is fine here.” His voice was trembling.
“Are you sure? Mr. Andrés was very worried.”
Carmela shook her head.
“No, sir. Nothing happened here.”
Gabriela placed a hand on the old woman’s shoulder. Affectionately. But Andrés saw the slight prick of her fingers. A silent warning.
Méndez hesitated. Something didn’t add up. But there was no proof.
“Very well,” she said. “I suppose Andrés was worried for no reason. I’ll tell him that everything is fine.”
Gabriela smiled. She accompanied the lawyer to the door. Triumphant.
When the door closed, the smile disappeared.
“Well done.” Absolute coldness. “Now go. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day.”
Andrés closed his laptop. He had failed. The lawyer had come. And she had won. A skilled predator.
He threw himself onto the bed. Defeated. For the first time, completely alone.
An hour staring at the ceiling. Then. The change.
He couldn’t stand idly by. He couldn’t let her win. He had evidence. Videos. Recordings. And something more. He knew who she was. He knew her methods. Her weaknesses.
If she played dirty, he could too.
He opened the laptop. He checked it. Gabriela was in the living room. Talking on the phone. He recorded the conversation.
“Everything is almost ready. The wedding is in two weeks. After that, I’ll get married, wait a few months, and then ask for a divorce. With what I’m getting from the prenuptial agreement, we’ll be able to live comfortably for the rest of our lives.”
Prenuptial agreement. He had signed one to protect his assets. A terrible doubt overwhelmed him.
He called Méndez.
“Sir. Please review the prenuptial agreement that Gabriela and I signed. Right now.”
Half an hour. The phone rang. Méndez. The deep voice.
“Andrés. Sit down. The agreement you signed isn’t the one I drafted. It’s a modified version. Someone changed the clauses. Basically, it guarantees her fifty percent of your assets in case of divorce. After the first year of marriage.”
The world fell apart.
“How is this possible?”
“Someone made the change after you signed and before it was registered. Only one person had access to those documents during that period.”
Gabriela. She had planned it all. Manipulated legal documents. He had fallen for it. Pure rage.
“Can it be cancelled?”
“If I can prove there was fraud, yes. We need solid evidence.”
Andrés smiled. A bitter smile, but a smile nonetheless.
“I have evidence. Videos of her threatening my employees. Recordings. Screenshots of her stealing documents.”
Méndez remained silent.
“Andrés. That’s more than enough. It’s a criminal case.”
The pieces were falling.
“Listen. Get everything ready. Contact the police, but don’t do anything yet. I’m going back to Mexico in two days. I want to be there when this blows up.”
“Andrés. It could be dangerous.”
“She won’t suspect a thing. I’ll keep acting like the lovestruck fool. Until the exact moment I can no longer escape.”
He hung up. He looked at the screen. Gabriela was still there. Believing she had won.
But she had underestimated the pain. And the loneliness. Andrés Salazar, with his eyes wide open and his heart broken, was more dangerous than she could ever have imagined.
II. The Collapse
Two days later. Seven in the morning. Andrés landed in Guadalajara. He didn’t tell Gabriela. He took a taxi to Méndez’s office.
Two judicial police officers were waiting for him there. A prosecutor. The evidence file was thick. Irrefutable. Videos. Audios. The forged agreement.
The prosecutor reviewed it.
“Sufficient to proceed. Fraud, threats, coercion, forgery.”
“I’m completely sure,” said Andrés.
“Then let’s go. We have an arrest warrant.”
They left in three vehicles. Andrés in Méndez’s car, following the patrol cars. Every second felt like an eternity. The drive home. He thought about Carmela. About Esteban. About justice.
They arrived at the entrance of the mansion. The officers asked him to wait. For security reasons.
An officer rang the doorbell. Eternal seconds.
The door opened. Gabriela. Elegant ivory robe. Perfect hair.
When she saw the police, panic flashed across her face. Just for a second. She quickly hid it.
“Good morning, officers. How can I help you?” Calm voice.
“Gabriela Montes.” The agent showed his identification.
“Yes, it’s me.” Confused smile.
“We have an arrest warrant out for him. Fraud, forgery, threats, and coercion.”
Gabriela’s smile froze.
“What? There must be some mistake. I didn’t do any of that.” Her voice trembled.
“Please turn around.”
“No, wait. This is ridiculous. Who sent you?” He looked out at the street. Searching.
And then he saw it. Méndez’s car. Andrés.
Their eyes met. In that instant. She knew. Everything. The videos. The evidence. The defeat.
Her face went from panic to pure hatred.
“You.” She pointed at him. Rage trembled. “You spied on me. Cameras. You’re a damn paranoid.”
Andrés got out of the car. He walked slowly. The officers were among them.
“No,” Andrés said. His voice was calmer than he felt. “I trusted you. You betrayed me. You hurt innocent people. You planned to rob me. That’s not paranoia. It’s protecting myself from a criminal.”
Gabriela burst into hysterical laughter.
“A criminal? Me. You’re a pathetic old man. Did you really think someone like me would fall in love with someone like you?”
The words were like knives. They hurt. But it didn’t matter anymore.
“You’re right,” Andrés replied. “I was an idiot. But the game is over.”
The officers grabbed her. They turned her around firmly. She struggled. She screamed. Let me go! This is illegal!
The handcuffs clicked shut. CLANK. The sound echoed.
Gabriela kept screaming. Threats. Insults. Her voice faded as they took her to the patrol car.
Andrés stood still. Looking at her. A strange relief. A deep sadness. He had won. But he had lost too much.
Andrés entered the house. Silence.
She went to the kitchen. Doña Carmela was sitting down. She saw him. She stood up. Her eyes filled with tears.
“Don Andrés.” Broken voice.
He approached and hugged her. She broke down. Sobs.
“Forgive me. For not being able to protect you. For not insisting more.”
“No, Carmela,” tears welled in her eyes as well. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
They separated. He dried her tears.
“Where is Esteban?”
“He’s working. In the garden. He hasn’t wanted to talk much.”
Andrés went outside. The sun was high. Esteban was pruning. Slow, tired movements. He saw him. He put down the shears.
“They arrested her, right?” Deep voice.
“Yeah.”
Esteban closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Peace.
“Thank you, Don Andrés. For believing in us in the end.”
Andrés felt a lump in his throat.
“I should have believed them from the beginning. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
Esteban placed a hand on Andrés’ shoulder. A simple gesture. Sorry. More than a thousand words.
III. The New Garden
They gathered in the kitchen. Andrés made coffee. Something he hadn’t done in years. Carmela tried to get up. He stopped her. Today is their day to rest.
They sat down. Silence. Then. Slowly. The story. She recounted the fear. He, the helplessness from Madrid. The decision to return.
Carmela looked at him.
“You came back, Don Andrés. Despite everything, you came back for us.”
Those words. They struck a chord with him. He was right. He had returned. He had faced the truth.
Eight years in prison. The trial was swift. Fraud. Threats. The evidence was irrefutable. Two other elderly men were also defrauded.
The day of the verdict. Andrés was in the front row. With Carmela and Esteban. When the judge read the sentence. Gabriela didn’t cry. She just looked at him. Hate.
Andrés didn’t look away. He needed to see her disappear. Let justice take its course.
When the patrol left, he exhaled. A long sigh.
The following months. Healing. Andrés sold the mansion. He couldn’t live there. He bought a smaller house. Cozy.
Carmela and Esteban moved in with him. They were no longer employees. They were family. The only real family he had left.
The burden lessened. It didn’t disappear. But it became more bearable.
One afternoon, coffee in the garden.
“You know, Don Andrés? Sometimes I think all this happened for a reason,” Esteban said.
“What reason?”
“To remind us that family isn’t just blood. It’s the people who stay when everything falls apart. The people who tell you the truth. The people who would be willing to suffer to protect you.”
Leave a Reply