The man who had promised to love Valentina during a flawless wedding in San Miguel de Allende. The man who had cried in front of everyone while swearing to protect her “until his last day.” The same man Ernesto had never fully trusted, but had tolerated because Valentina loved him.
“Where is Mauricio?” Ernesto asked.
A nurse lowered her eyes.
That tiny gesture told him enough.
“He said he needed to step out and pray,” she answered carefully. “He said he couldn’t bear seeing her like this.”
Ernesto slowly turned his head.
“To pray?”
“That’s what he said. He said he was going to the chapel to ask the Virgin for help.”
Ernesto did not laugh. But something in his face hardened.
Mauricio Serrano was not a man of prayer. He was a man of Italian suits, polished smiles, expensive cologne, and a soul Ernesto had always considered cheap. He had entered Valentina’s life with flowers, fake humility, and romantic speeches that never fooled her father.
But they had fooled Valentina.
And because Ernesto loved his daughter, he stepped back. He bought the couple a house in Cancún, lent Mauricio money for his investment company, covered debts Mauricio called “temporary problems,” and even gifted them a yacht for their third anniversary.
Valentina had named it Valentina’s Light.
Now she was fighting for her life.
And Mauricio was supposedly praying.
Ernesto pulled out his phone and called him.
Mauricio answered on the fourth ring.
“Father-in-law…” he said in a broken, theatrical voice. “I’m destroyed. I can’t handle this.”
Music played in the background.
Not chapel music.
Low reggaeton. Laughter. Glasses clinking. A woman shouting something playfully nearby.
“I’m at the hospital,” Ernesto said. “The chair beside my daughter is empty. Where are you?”
“In the chapel,” Mauricio answered quickly. “On my knees. Begging God to save Vale. I couldn’t stand seeing her connected to those machines. I was dying inside.”
Then a clear female laugh sounded near him.
Ernesto closed his eyes.
“Stay there,” he said. “Keep praying.”
Then he hung up.
Beside him, Iván Torres, his head of security, already had a tablet in his hand.
“Track him,” Ernesto ordered.
Iván needed less than thirty seconds.
“He’s not in any chapel, sir. He’s at Marina Puerto Cancún. On the yacht.”
Ernesto stared at the blinking blue dot on the screen.
“Alone?”
“No. There’s a party. Around twenty people. Music, alcohol, catering… and a woman with him.”
At that moment, the neurosurgeon rushed into the corridor.
“Mr. Aguilar, we need to operate immediately. Your daughter’s condition is worsening. If we wait, the damage could become irreversible.”
“Then operate,” Ernesto said.
The doctor took a tense breath.
“We need her husband’s authorization. Mr. Serrano called ten minutes ago and told us to pause the procedure until he could speak with his lawyer. He said he wanted to review the risks.”
The world went silent.
Ernesto understood everything in two seconds.
Mauricio was not hiding from grief.
He was delaying.
He wanted Valentina to die.
“How long has she been here?” Ernesto asked.
“Less than an hour.”
Ernesto took a silver pen from his jacket.
“Bring me the documents.”
The doctor hesitated.
“Legally…”
Ernesto looked at him with the kind of coldness that had made bankers, politicians, and enemies tremble for forty years.
“Doctor, my daughter will not die because a parasite wearing a wedding ring is waiting to collect insurance money. Prepare the operating room. I will sign, pay, and accept responsibility for whatever is necessary.”
As they pushed Valentina toward surgery, Ernesto made a call.
“Ms. Robles,” he said when the line connected. “Wake up.”
“Don Ernesto, what happened?”
“Activate the Omega protocol.”
Silence followed.
“Against whom?”
“Mauricio Serrano. Freeze his accounts, buy his debts, review his properties, loans, cars, the yacht—everything. Before sunrise, I want to be that miserable man’s only creditor.”
The lawyer inhaled sharply.
“That means total war.”
Ernesto watched the operating room doors close.
“No,” he said. “It means justice.”
And while Mauricio was kissing another woman on the yacht Ernesto had paid for, he had no idea that the man he betrayed had just made the call that would destroy his life.
I could not believe what was about to happen.
READ MORE ON THE NEXT PAGE…
