PART 1
Emiliano Duarte turned off the lights in his residence in Lomas de Chapultepec, picked up a suitcase, and kissed his two daughters as if that morning were completely normal.
“It will only be 3 days,” he promised them with a calm smile. “Be good.”
Daniela, 11, hugged him tightly. Martina, 7, stayed pressed against his chest for a few more seconds, clutching a stuffed rabbit.
None of them knew that their father was lying.
The private plane never took off for Europe. There was no business meeting, no hotel reservation, and no dinner with investors.
Less than an hour later, Emiliano returned through the service entrance accompanied only by Ramiro, his head of security.
I didn’t want to surprise anyone.
I wanted to observe.
The night before, Patricia, his fiancée, had dropped a hint of suspicion during dinner.
“You trust Rosa too much,” he said in a low voice. “She steals things from you and is manipulating the girls to turn them against me.”
Emiliano refused to believe him.
Rosa had been working in the house for almost 5 years. She was discreet, responsible, and knew every detail about the girls: how Daniela liked her rolls, what song calmed Martina, and where they kept their homework.
But Patricia had been sowing doubts for weeks.
First, a bracelet disappeared.
She then said that the girls obeyed the maid more than her.
