Chapter 1: The Locked Doors
Chapter 1: The Locked Doors
Alejandro wrapped his arms around all four girls, trying to steady his breathing while their tiny bodies trembled against him.
“Daddy’s here,” he whispered. “No one will ever make you afraid again.”
For a moment, none of the girls spoke.
Then little Sofía reached into the pocket of her nightgown and pulled out half of a dry cracker.
“I saved this for tomorrow,” she said quietly. “In case Miss Jimena forgot again.”
Alejandro closed his eyes.
His daughters had begun hiding food.
That wasn't discipline.
That was survival.
He stood, took off his expensive suit jacket, and wrapped it around the girls before leading them toward the kitchen.
The refrigerator was nearly empty.
A carton of expired milk.
Two eggs.
Half an onion.
Nothing else.
Yet only thirty feet away, dozens of guests laughed while chefs carried trays of lobster, prime rib, imported cheeses, and champagne worth thousands of dollars.
Alejandro turned toward the housekeeper standing silently near the pantry.
"María."
The elderly woman immediately lowered her head.
"I'm sorry, Señor... she threatened to fire anyone who fed the girls."
"What?"
María's eyes filled with tears.
"She said the children ruined her image. She locked them upstairs whenever guests came."
Alejandro's hands clenched into fists.
"Where is the staff?"
"Most quit."
"And the others?"
"They're too afraid."
Just then, laughter echoed from the ballroom.
Jimena raised another glass of champagne.
"My husband won't be home until next week!" she shouted.
"So tonight we celebrate properly!"
The guests cheered.
Alejandro slowly walked into the ballroom.
The music stopped the second people recognized him.
Jimena froze.
Her smile disappeared.
"Alejandro?"
"I thought—"
"You thought wrong."
He looked around the room.
Crystal chandeliers.
Designer decorations.
Luxury catering.
Every corner screamed excess.
Yet his daughters had been eating moldy bread.
"Where did you get the money for this party?"
Jimena forced a nervous laugh.
"Oh, sweetheart... it's Christmas."
He didn't smile.
"I asked you a question."
She stepped closer.
"I used the household account."
"The account meant for my daughters?"
"It's all family money."
Alejandro stared at her.
"No."
His voice became frighteningly calm.
"It was never yours."
He turned toward the guests.
"The party is over."
Within minutes, embarrassed socialites grabbed their coats and hurried toward the exit.
Jimena's perfect Christmas celebration collapsed in complete silence.
But Alejandro wasn't finished.
He walked directly into his home office.
The safe was open.
Financial folders were missing.
Bank statements had been shredded.
Someone had tried very hard to erase the evidence.
Alejandro picked up the phone.
"Ricardo."
His attorney answered immediately.
"Yes, sir?"
"I need a forensic accountant."
"Tonight."
"And call child protective services."
There was a long pause.
"Sir... has something happened?"
May you like
Alejandro looked toward the hallway where his daughters were finally eating warm soup.
"Everything."
