I wanted the whole truth.
Diego did the same with Álvaro.
At a family gathering, in front of several cousins and shareholders, he said:
“My father loved my mother, yet he allowed his brother to harm her. Loving someone doesn’t absolve you of betraying them.”
Tomás, present through lawyers, described the accusations as “sentimental rewriting”.
But he no longer controlled the room.
César testified about the use of companies linked to Lucía.
He admitted that he put assets in his daughter’s name when she was a minor in order to hide financial relationships.
Lucia cried when she heard it.
Then she made her statement.
—I spent years trying to prove that I wasn’t responsible for something done in my name when I was a child. And in that process, I started hiding things as an adult. It’s not the same, but I learned where the habit came from.
Elena looked at her from the back.
That phrase stayed with her for weeks.
We inherit habits as well as money.
Elena had inherited from Julián the need to prove that she was right.
Diego, from Álvaro, the impulse to avoid conflicts until it was too late.
Lucia, from Caesar, the belief that secret maneuvers could be used for noble purposes.
Tomás had inherited something else: the conviction that the family was a structure that should obey him.
In January, the Prosecutor’s Office filed charges related to recent events involving document forgery, breach of trust, and obstruction of justice. Some of the accusations targeted Tomás and other associates. The older events would follow separate legal and evidentiary boundaries.
There was no single cause that explained twenty years of history.
There were many.
Just like in families.
Elena also received some good news.
His mother’s plot of land, a central piece for any future development in Valdemora, would remain his.
A fund wanted to buy it.
She rejected the offer.
Instead of selling, he proposed a low-density project with environmental protection and local participation to several neighboring property owners.
Marta looked at her in surprise.
—Your father wanted to build a huge complex.
—My father was wrong too.
—That sounded very grown-up.
—Don’t get used to it.
They laughed.
One afternoon in February, Diego called.
—I need to ask you something.
—Dime.
—Can we meet in Santa Aurelia?
Elena remained silent.
She hadn’t returned since the wedding.
—Why there?
—Because I want to give something back to you.
They met in the empty room.
Without flowers.
No guests.
Without music.
Winter light streamed through the arches.
Diego was standing next to the table where Tomás had sat on the wedding night.
On top of her was a package wrapped in cloth.
Elena opened it.
The frame.
Restored.
Panel blanco.
Small red square in the center.
“The police don’t need it anymore,” Diego said. “The restorer was able to rebuild it with the recovered pieces.”
Elena touched the edge.
—I thought it was lost.
-Almost.
Diego looked at her.
—Like us.
Elena did not respond.
He breathed.
—I’m not going to ask you to forget anything. I just want to know if you want to try building something new with me. Without my responsibilities. Without your land. Without secrets as proof of love.
Elena felt tears.
He looked at the frame.
Then to Diego.
—I don’t know if I can.
He nodded.
—That’s an honest answer.
Elena smiled weakly.
—I can offer you another one.
-Which?
—We can start with a conversation where neither of us leaves until it’s finished.
Diego let out a breath.
—I accept.
They sat in two separate chairs.
And they talked for four hours.
They did not fix the marriage.
But for the first time, they stopped putting off the truth for another day.
Chapter 10 — The Empty Frame
A year after the wedding, Elena returned to the Palace of Santa Aurelia.
Not to celebrate an anniversary.
The building no longer belonged to the Salvatierra Group.
As part of the financial restructuring and the settlements resulting from the audit, the palace had been sold to an independent hotel company. Part of the proceeds were used to cover the group’s claims and obligations.
Elena attended because an architectural heritage foundation had invited several professionals to discuss the restoration of a closed wing.
He entered the great hall at ten in the morning.
Without lit lamps, without flowers and without guests, it seemed smaller.
Marta walked beside him.
—Does being here give you any kind of feeling?
Elena looked at the place where she had lifted the frame.
-Yeah.
—Do you want to leave?
—No.
A year earlier, he would have interpreted staying as a test of courage.
Now she knew that she could also leave and still be strong.
But he wanted to stay.
Not because of the building.
