Chapter 9 - THE ESCAPE AT THE IRON GATESCatalina did not run like a criminal.
She walked like a queen.
By the time Alejandro reached the front balcony, she was crossing the circular driveway in a cream dress, her wrists free, her hair perfect, a black car waiting near the iron gates.
Two guards lay unconscious near the fountain.
Doña Socorro stood beside the car, shaking so badly she could barely hold the door open.
Alejandro leaned over the balcony railing. “Catalina!”
She looked up.
Even from that distance, Valeria could see her smile.
Catalina lifted one hand.
Red nails flashed.
Then she placed the hand gently on Doña Socorro’s shoulder.
A threat disguised as affection.
Socorro flinched.
Alejandro raised his phone. “Close the gates.”
Nothing happened.
Ramiro cursed. “System’s down.”
Catalina slipped into the car.
The engine roared.
Valeria looked at Mateo.
His entire body was trembling.
Not because Catalina was leaving.
Because she might come back.
Valeria saw the bronze horse statue still lying near the main hall from that morning. Heavy. Decorative. Useless, until now.
She ran down the stairs.
“Valeria!” Alejandro shouted.
She grabbed the statue with both hands and rushed toward the driveway.
The car accelerated.
The gates were beginning to open manually from outside.
Catalina had help beyond the walls.
Valeria did not think.
She threw the statue at the control box beside the gate.
It smashed into the panel with a burst of sparks.
The gates jolted.
The opening stopped halfway.
The car tried to squeeze through.
Metal shrieked against metal.
The front bumper jammed.
Ramiro’s men surrounded it within seconds.
Catalina stepped out slowly, rage finally breaking through her polished mask.
“You stupid little maid.”
Valeria stood breathing hard, hands scraped, ribs burning.
“No,” she said. “Just poor. We learn to use whatever is available.”
Catalina lunged.
Alejandro reached them first.
He caught Catalina by the arm and forced her back with such control that it was more terrifying than violence.
“You hid my daughter,” he said.
Catalina laughed in his face. “I saved this family from your weakness.”
“You tortured my son.”
“I trained him to survive.”
“You murdered my wife.”
For the first time, Catalina’s smile vanished.
“Lucía signed her own death the moment she tried to turn you into a decent man.”
Alejandro stared at her.
Then he looked at the guards.
“Take her to the library. No one touches her. No one speaks to her. She answers only to evidence now.”
Catalina blinked.
She expected rage.
She expected blood.
She expected Alejandro Ríos to become the monster everyone said he was.
Instead, he chose witnesses.
Records.
Proof.
That frightened her more.
As the guards dragged Catalina inside, Socorro collapsed near the fountain.
Valeria moved toward her, but Ramiro blocked the way.
“She helped them.”
“She knows things,” Valeria said.
Alejandro nodded.
Socorro was brought into the breakfast room, where she sat shaking beneath the chandelier.
Alejandro placed Lucía’s phone on the table.
“Tell me everything.”
Socorro wept before she spoke.
“She came to me the night of the attack,” she whispered. “Catalina. She said Señora Lucía was alive but would die if we did not keep quiet. She said the baby was sick. She said enemies were watching the hospital.”
Valeria’s voice was cold. “So you hid a child from her father?”
Socorro sobbed harder. “At first I thought it was temporary. Then Catalina showed me papers. She said Señor Alejandro had ordered it. She said he blamed the baby for Lucía’s death.”
Alejandro closed his eyes.
Mateo, sitting beside Valeria, shook his head hard.
Socorro looked at him and broke.
“I’m sorry, niño. I’m sorry. She made me bring you to the room. She made me play the recordings. She said if you spoke, your sister would disappear.”
Mateo pressed into Valeria’s side.
Valeria felt anger rise inside her so hot it scared her.
But Alejandro spoke first.
“Who was helping Catalina outside the house?”
Socorro wiped her face.
“Dr. Ibarra. Two lawyers. One police commander. And your uncle Esteban.”
Alejandro went completely still.
Esteban Ríos.
His father’s younger brother.
The man who had called him every Sunday after Lucía died.
The man who had kissed Mateo’s forehead at the funeral.
The man Alejandro had trusted with half the family business.
From the corner of the room, Catalina laughed.
“You found the snake,” she said.
May you like
Then her eyes slid to Mateo.
“But not the nest.”
