Chapter 7 - The Dead ManThe name Rafael Salcedo had become a myth.
Officially, he had died fifteen years earlier from a heart attack.
A private funeral.
Closed casket.
A family statement.
A mausoleum.
Mariana remembered standing there as a child.
She remembered flowers.
Rain.
Her mother's hand on her shoulder.
She remembered being told:
“Your grandfather is sleeping now.”
But now Gabriel was telling her something impossible.
He was alive.
Mariana refused to believe it.
“That can't be true.”
“Then explain the payments.”
Gabriel placed a file in front of her.
Bank transfers.
Private aircraft.
Hospital accounts.
Security contracts.
All tied to companies controlled by a man named Rafael Varela.
Mariana frowned.
“Varela?”
Gabriel nodded.
“Your grandfather took your mother's family name.”
“Why?”
“To hide himself.”
Mariana's pulse quickened.
“Wait.”
She looked at the name again.
“Rafael Varela.”
“Yes.”
“Rafael Salcedo.”
“Same man.”
Mariana looked at Mateo.
The boy sat quietly with Rosa, unaware of the storm around him.
“My father served him.”
“Yes.”
“My mother knew.”
“Yes.”
“And they killed Lucía because she found out.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Gabriel leaned back.
“Because Lucía discovered that the man who ordered the deaths of her family was not Esteban.”
Mariana whispered:
“Rafael.”
Gabriel nodded.
“And Esteban wasn't even the architect.”
“Then who was?”
Gabriel's expression darkened.
“Lucía.”
Mariana stared.
“What?”
“Your mother had help.”
“From whom?”
Gabriel opened another file.
A photograph.
Three people.
Lucía Varela.
A young Esteban Salcedo.
And a third person.
Mariana's eyes widened.
She knew him.
Everyone did.
He had been on television for twenty years.
A philanthropist.
A senator.
A man who had recently announced plans to run for president.
Adrian Vale.
Mariana stared at the photograph.
“He was there?”
Gabriel nodded.
“They built Meridian together.”
“No.”
“He betrayed Lucía.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
Mariana looked at the photo again.
Then she noticed something strange.
Lucía was holding a baby.
She looked carefully.
The baby had the same red mark on the wrist.
Three dots.
Mariana's breathing stopped.
“That isn't me.”
Gabriel said nothing.
“Then who is it?”
Before he could answer, the door opened.
Rosa entered.
“We have company.”
Gabriel reached for his weapon.
“What kind?”
Rosa looked at Mariana.
“Press.”
Mariana stared.
“How?”
“Someone leaked your location.”
Gabriel swore.
They moved toward the back exit.
Outside, cameras were already flashing.
Reporters gathered beyond the trees.
A helicopter circled overhead.
Mariana froze.
“How did they know?”
Gabriel looked at his phone.
An alert appeared.
MISSING HEIRESS MARIANA SALCEDO SPOTTED ALIVE.
Then another.
AUTHORITIES INVESTIGATE WHETHER MARIANA SALCEDO KILLED HER SON.
Mariana felt sick.
“What?”
Gabriel showed her the accompanying photograph.
It showed Mariana standing on the yacht with Mateo.
Except the image had been edited.
Her hand appeared to be around his neck.
A deepfake.
“They've started phase two,” Gabriel said.
Mariana stared at the screen.
“What happens in phase two?”
“They destroy your credibility.”
“And phase three?”
Gabriel looked toward the reporters.
“Your arrest.”
“And phase four?”
He didn't answer.
Mariana grabbed his arm.
“Tell me.”
He looked at her.
“Death.”
A gunshot cracked through the trees.
The windshield of the car shattered.
Gabriel shoved Mariana down.
“MOVE!”
They ran.
Rosa pulled Mateo behind a wall.
Reporters screamed.
Security scattered.
Another shot.
A bullet struck the stone beside Mariana's head.
Gabriel fired back.
Then he stopped.
“There!”
A sniper had appeared on the roof of a distant building.
Gabriel stared.
Then whispered:
“That's not a Salcedo gun.”
“What?”
He looked at the rifle.
“That's military.”
Mariana's phone suddenly rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
A man's voice said:
“You've been searching for the wrong grandfather.”
Mariana froze.
“Who are you?”
The voice laughed.
“You're finally asking the right question.”
“Where is Rafael?”
“He's standing five feet behind you.”
Mariana turned.
Rosa was gone.
Mateo was gone.
Only a dark-haired man stood there.
He slowly removed his hat.
Mariana stared at the face.
She knew it.
Because she had seen it before.
In the photograph of the dead.
He smiled.
“Hello, Mariana.”
May you like
She whispered:
“Grandfather.”
