—Prosecutor’s Office! Nobody move!
The voice made the windows of the mansion tremble.
Jimena pulled the heel from Renata’s hand and stood up abruptly. For the first time since entering the basement, her perfect face lost its composure.
“What did you do?” he asked.
Renata was still on the floor, breathing as if every breath contained glass.
“What you never understood,” she murmured. ” A Montalvo may be alone, but she is never unprotected.”
Upstairs, doors slammed, orders were given, footsteps rushed, and an employee was crying. Jimena glanced toward the staircase, calculating how long it would take her to reach an exit.
Renata saw the exact moment when she made a decision.
The young woman bent down, snatched the gold chain from around his neck, and squeezed it with both hands.
—If I leave here, you’re not going to say anything.
Renata felt like the air was being cut short. She tried to scratch it, but her right hand wouldn’t respond and her left hand barely had any strength.
Jimena squeezed harder.
“Alejandro is going to get rid of all of you,” he whispered. “You, the driver, and those ridiculous old men who think they can still scare someone.”
Then a gunshot was heard.
Jimena froze.
The bullet hadn’t entered the basement. It had exploded upstairs, followed by a man’s scream.
The pressure on Renata’s neck eased.
A second later, the door burst open.
Tomás appeared with his shirt stained with blood, a bruise on his forehead, and a gun in his hand.
—Let her go!
Jimena slowly raised her hands.
—You? Alejandro said you had been arrested.
Tomás entered limping.
—He also said that Mrs. Renata had fallen on her own.
Two investigators appeared behind him. One handcuffed Jimena while the other knelt beside Renata.
—Ma’am, can you hear me?
Renata tried to answer, but only managed to nod.
“We need paramedics downstairs,” the officer shouted.
Thomas bent down beside her.
—We did it, ma’am.
—Jade?
He reached under his shirt and pulled out a small green charm attached to a cord.
—Here it is.
Renata closed her eyes.
For the first time in years, she allowed someone to see her cry.
They carried her up on a stretcher as the house filled with police, forensic experts, and terrified employees. In the hallway, next to the broken vase that had started it all, Alejandro Castañeda was on his knees with his hands behind his head.
His immaculate white shirt had blood on the shoulder.
It wasn’t his.
One of his bodyguards lay handcuffed near the front door with a gunshot wound to the leg. He had tried to fire at the officers when they entered.
Alejandro looked up as he saw Renata walk by.
He showed no guilt.
He showed disbelief.
—¿Qué demonios hiciste? —le gritó—. ¡Renata, diles que esto es un asunto privado!
Ella giró apenas la cabeza.
—Lo privado fue mi matrimonio —respondió con un hilo de voz—. Lo criminal es lo que hiciste dentro de él.
Alejandro intentó levantarse, pero un agente lo obligó a permanecer de rodillas.
—¡Esa mujer está trastornada! —rugió—. ¡Se cayó en el sótano!
Tomás soltó una risa amarga.
—Sí, patrón. Se cayó contra sus puños como veinte veces.
Jimena bajaba esposada por la escalera. Al cruzarse con Alejandro, buscó su mirada, esperando protección.
Él la observó con desprecio.
—Todo esto fue idea de ella —dijo.
Jimena se detuvo.
—¿Perdón?
—Ella provocó a mi esposa. Ella fingió la caída. Yo solo intenté controlar la situación.
La expresión de Jimena se quebró.
—No manches, Alejandro. Tú me dijiste que—
Uno de los agentes la empujó suavemente hacia la salida.
—Eso se lo cuenta al Ministerio Público.
En la ambulancia, Renata perdió el conocimiento.
Despertó doce horas después en un hospital privado de Santa Fe.
Lo primero que sintió fue dolor.
Lo segundo, miedo.
Abrió los ojos de golpe y trató de incorporarse, pero una punzada en las costillas la obligó a caer sobre la almohada.
—Tranquila —dijo una voz cerca de la ventana—. Ya no está en esa casa.
Tomás estaba sentado en un sillón, con una venda en la cabeza y el brazo izquierdo inmovilizado.
—¿Qué te hicieron?
—Los hombres del señor Alejandro me alcanzaron antes de llegar al Centro.
—¿Y el dije?
Tomás señaló una caja de seguridad empotrada en la pared.
—Se lo entregué a Don Leandro. Él lo abrió frente a la fiscalía.
Renata lo miró fijamente.
—¿Lo abrió?
—Sí.
Tomás tragó saliva.
—Señora… adentro no había una piedra completa. Era una memoria.
Renata cerró los ojos.
Había esperado ese momento durante diecisiete años.
—¿Don Leandro está aquí?
—En el pasillo.
—Hazlo pasar.
