Chapter 4
I met Carlos at his office an hour later, leaving Isabella with Maria.
I laid the burner phone on his desk.
He read the texts.
His face went from serious to furious.
“Rafael,” he said, the name like a curse.
“I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” I said, pacing the room.
“He’s been stealing from me for months. Planning to run off with Beatriz and leave me with nothing.”
Carlos leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
“How much has he taken?”
“I don’t know yet. The texts say 200k a week for three months. That’s 2.4 million right there. Probably more.”
I ran a hand through my hair.
“He’s got access to all the company accounts. All the offshore holdings. He could’ve emptied half the company by now.”
Carlos nodded, already typing on his laptop.
“I’ll call the forensic auditors first thing. We’ll comb every transaction, every account, every penny. If he’s stolen a cent, we’ll find it.”
He looked up at me.
“But we have to move fast. If he knows you have the phone, he’ll run. He’ll destroy evidence. He’ll take Beatriz and disappear.”
“Then we don’t let him know.”
I stopped pacing.
“I go to the office tomorrow like nothing’s wrong. I act like I’m just back from Dubai, tired, jet-lagged, clueless. I let him keep talking. Keep making mistakes. While you and the auditors build the case.”
Carlos nodded.
“It’s risky. If he suspects anything—”
“He won’t. Rafael’s arrogant. He thinks he’s smarter than everyone. He thinks I’m just a dumb rich guy who got lucky.”
I picked up the burner phone and slipped it into my pocket.
“I’ll play the part. I’ll let him hang himself.”
The next morning, I walked into the Hale Development office like I owned the place.
Because I did.
Rafael was waiting for me by my desk, a huge smile on his face, his arms open.
“Ethan! My man! You’re back early!”
He hugged me, clapping me on the back.
I hugged him back, my jaw tight.
“Good to be home.”
“How was Dubai? The hotel turned out perfect?”
“Perfect. Ahead of schedule, under budget.”
I sat at my desk, turning on my computer like nothing was wrong.
“Beatriz said you came home yesterday. Must’ve been a nice surprise for the girls.”
I froze for half a second.
He knew.
Of course he knew.
He’d been texting Beatriz the whole time.
“Isabella was thrilled,” I said, keeping my voice even.
“Beatriz… well, you know how she is. She hates surprises.”
Rafael laughed, loud and fake.
“Sure does. Hey, listen, we’ve got some budget issues on the Barcelona project. Need your signature on some transfers to keep things moving.”
He slid a stack of papers across my desk.
Transfer orders.
Each one for half a million euros.
Each going to an account I’d never heard of.
I picked up the top sheet, pretending to read it carefully.
“These accounts are new,” I said.
“New subcontractors,” Rafael said smoothly.
“Better rates. Beatriz actually recommended them. She’s been great helping with the books while you were gone.”
I nodded, signing the papers slowly.
“Good. Good to know she’s been pulling her weight.”
I slid the papers back to him.
He took them, his eyes glinting with greed.
He thought he was winning.
He thought I was an idiot.
I spent the rest of the day in meetings, laughing at Rafael’s jokes, nodding at his ideas, acting like the perfect unsuspecting CEO.
All the while, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Carlos, updating me.
Auditors found 3.7 million in hidden transfers so far.
More every hour.
I left the office at six, exhausted, my jaw aching from gritting my teeth all day.
I pulled into the driveway of the villa—and froze.
A black sports car was parked by the front door.
Rafael’s car.
My hand went to the burner phone in my pocket.
I texted Carlos: He’s here. At my house.
Then I got out of the car and walked inside.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
“Maria?” I called.
No answer.
“Isabella?”
Nothing.
I walked toward the living room, my heart hammering.
I heard voices.
Rafael.
And Beatriz.
“You said he was clueless!” Beatriz hissed.
“He locked me out! He served me with papers! He has the phone, Rafael! I know he does!”
“Calm down,” Rafael said, his voice calm, cold.
“He doesn’t have anything. He’s just angry about the kid. We stick to the plan. We say she’s lying. We say he’s been working too hard, drinking too much, abusing her himself.”
“You think anyone will believe that?”
“Social services will. My friend runs the Marbella office. One call, and they’ll take Isabella away from him. Put her in foster care. Then we fight for custody. A judge will pick the ‘loving, stable stepmother’ over the ‘absent, workaholic father’ every time.”
I stopped in the doorway.
They were sitting on the couch, their heads close together.
Beatriz’s hand was on Rafael’s knee.
They looked up at the same time.
Beatriz’s face went white.
Rafael just smiled.
“Ethan,” he said, standing up smoothly.
“Good, you’re home. We need to talk.”
I stared at him.
At the man I’d called brother for ten years.
“Get out of my house,” I said, my voice low.
“Now.”
“Or what?” Rafael laughed.
“You’ll call the police? What for? Visiting my goddaughter?”
He walked toward me, stopping a foot away.
He was taller than me.
Bigger.
But I didn’t back down.
“Listen to me, Ethan,” he said, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper.
“You can fight this if you want. But you will lose. I have the money. I have the connections. I have the witnesses. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be broke. In jail. And Isabella will be mine and Beatriz’s to raise however we want.”
He leaned closer.
“Now, you can either make this easy on yourself. Sign over the company. Sign over the house. Sign over custody. And we’ll let you walk away with nothing but your life. Or we can make this painful. Your choice.”
I didn’t hesitate.
I swung.
My fist connected with his jaw, hard.
He stumbled back, falling onto the coffee table, glass shattering everywhere.
Beatriz screamed.
Rafael looked up at me, his lip bleeding, his eyes dark with rage.
“Big mistake, Hale,” he spat.
He pulled out his phone.
“Hello? Police? I’d like to report an assault. Ethan Hale just attacked me unprovoked in his home. Yes, I’m pressing charges.”
He stood up, wiping the blood from his mouth.
“You just gave me everything I needed,” he said, smiling.
“Assault charge. Violent temper. Perfect for proving you’re an unfit father.”
He walked past me, Beatriz right behind him.
At the door, he stopped.
“Enjoy your last night with your daughter, Ethan. Tomorrow, she’s gone.”
The door closed.
I stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by broken glass, my knuckles bleeding.
I’d played right into his hands.
May you like
I’d given him exactly what he wanted.
And now I was going to lose Isabella.
