Chapter 2 - The Trap at San Pedro
The private clinic in San Pedro was the kind of establishment where wealthy men bought clean health certificates and discrete medical treatments. At 8:30 AM, Mauricio walked through the glass sliding doors, wearing an Italian wool coat I had bought him for his last birthday. He walked with the arrogant swagger of a man who believed he had finally claimed his birthright.
Beside him walked Camila, wearing my diamond necklace—the one I had earned after closing the Santa Catarina industrial park deal—and holding her youngest son by the hand.
From inside a tinted surveillance van parked across the street, I watched them through high-definition monitors. Prosecutor Adriana Beltrán sat next to me, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, her eyes fixed on the digital feed.
"He's submitting the life insurance application now," Beltrán said, pointing to the screen. "He forged your signature on the consent form using an electronic signature pad he stole from your desk last week."
"Let him sign it," I said quietly. "Let him complete the fraud."
On the monitor, Mauricio sat across from Dr. Hector Ramos, a physician who had been bribed with five hundred thousand pesos to certify my 'terminal hepatic illness' without an actual physical examination. Mauricio handed over the forged documents, his face split in a wide, triumphant grin.
"She doesn't have much time left, Doctor," Mauricio’s voice came clearly through the concealed microphone in Dr. Ramos's office. "Her liver is failing rapidly. Her mind is going too. She was so disoriented last night she packed a bag and wandered off into the streets."
Camila dabbed at her eyes with a silk handkerchief, pretending to wipe away non-existent tears. "It’s tragic, Doctor. We tried to keep her at home, but she became aggressive. We just want to make sure her estate is protected so Mauricio can care for our boys."
"Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Peña," Dr. Ramos said smoothly, reaching for his pen to sign the fraudulent medical certification. "I will file this directly with the international insurance underwriters."
Before the tip of Dr. Ramos’s pen could touch the paper, the office door was kicked open with a deafening crash.
Eight heavily armed tactical officers from the Federal Ministerial Police flooded the room, their assault rifles raised.
"Federal police! Don't move! Hands on the table!"
Mauricio jumped out of his leather chair, his face instantly draining of color. "What is the meaning of this?! Do you know who I am?! I am the executive director of Norte Firme!"
Prosecutor Beltrán and I stepped through the door, flanked by Julian and four federal agents.
Mauricio’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he saw me. I wasn't wearing the faded, torn blouse from the night before; I wore a sharp, bespoke navy suit, my hair pinned up, my eyes hard as diamonds.
"Renata?" Mauricio gasped, his voice cracking into a high-pitched squeak. "You... how are you alive? You were... you were wandering the streets!"
"I wasn't wandering, Mauricio," I said softly, stepping up to the desk and picking up the forged insurance application. "I was waiting."
Camila tried to slip toward the side door, but a female federal agent grabbed her by the arm, slapping steel handcuffs around her wrists.
"Renata, wait! This is a misunderstanding!" Mauricio stammered, stepping backward until his back hit the wall. "Camila forced me into this! She threatened me! I love you, Renata! I was coming to find you today to bring you back home!"
I looked at the man I had loved for ten years. The cowardice in his eyes was sickening.
"Save your breath, Mauricio," Prosecutor Beltrán said, tossing a heavy file onto the desk. "You are under arrest for attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, wire fraud, identity theft, and corporate embezzlement."
"Attempted murder?!" Mauricio screamed, turning to Dr. Ramos. "Doctor, tell them! My wife is sick! She has a liver condition!"
"She doesn't have a liver condition, Mr. Peña," Dr. Ramos said, his hands shaking as he held his own wrists in cuffs. "She has spent three weeks submitting blood samples to the State Toxicology Bureau. The only thing in her system was the industrial toxin your mother was slipping into her tea."
Mauricio stared at me in total horror as the reality of his situation began to sink in. But the true blow had yet to land.
I reached into my blazer and pulled out the white sheet from the blue folder—the genetic report. I walked up to Mauricio and slapped it against his chest.
"Read it," I commanded.
Mauricio picked up the paper with trembling fingers, his eyes darting across the medical terms. "What... what is this? DNA testing?"
"Those are the genetic reports for your three 'sons', Mauricio," I said, a cruel smile touching my lips. "The boys you threw me out for. The boys who were going to inherit my company."
Mauricio looked at Camila, then back at the paper. "No... no, this is fake! Child A... 0%? Child B... 0%?" He grabbed Camila by the shoulders, shaking her violently. "Camila! What is this?! Tell them the boys are mine!"
Camila didn't even look at him. She spat on the floor and laughed bitterly. "You stupid, pathetic little professor. Did you really think a woman like me would let a weak worm like you touch me? You were nothing but a shield to keep Mendoza’s money safe!"
Mauricio dropped to his knees on the clinic floor, weeping hysterically as the federal agents hauled him to his feet.
"Take them away," Beltrán ordered.
May you like
As they dragged Mauricio out toward the police cruisers, I turned to Julian. "Where is Elvira?"
"Federal agents are currently knocking on the penthouse door," Julian replied with a dark smile. "She thinks her son is coming home with eighty million pesos. She’s about to get a very different surprise."
