“I didn’t sign this.”
I observed him closely.
“I need you to be absolutely sure.”
“Mom, I know my signature. It looks similar, but I didn’t sign this document.”
Then he pointed to a phrase.
Preliminary commitment subject to ratification by the majority shareholder.
“I wouldn’t have accepted this either. My work has no bearing on your company’s corporate decisions.”
I breathed slowly.
I wanted to believe him.
But he needed to understand how someone had managed to make such an accurate reproduction of his signature.
“Have you given Carlota personal documents?”
Daniel frowned.
“Some. We’re preparing for marriage. IDs, bank statements, paperwork for procedures.”
“Copies of contracts?”
My son took several seconds to respond.
“Two weeks ago he asked me for some documents for a supposed asset review.”
I felt like the ground seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
“Who was going to check them?”
“A lawyer for his father.”
At that moment I realized that Daniel could also have been used.
Not as a partner.
But as an instrument.
“I need you to show me all those messages,” I told him.
Daniel took out his phone.
But just as she opened the conversation with Carlota, a notification appeared.
It was a new message.
Honey, please tell your mom not to go into the meeting. My dad can explain everything tomorrow.
There was another one below.
And don’t show him the document you signed in my apartment.
Daniel slowly raised his eyes.
“I didn’t sign anything in his department.”
I looked at the message.
Then I looked at my son.
And I understood that that phrase contained a threat disguised as a plea.
We went back to the living room.
Carlota saw us approaching.
Her smile disappeared.
“Daniel, darling, can we talk alone?”
My son held her gaze.
“Yes. Let’s talk.”
He showed her the phone.
“What document do you say I signed?”
Carlota opened her mouth.
But he didn’t answer.
Her father immediately appeared at her side.
“That’s none of your mother’s business, boy.”
Daniel took a step towards him.
“If they used my name, then yes, it’s my business.”
Then Mr. Holguín uttered a phrase that confirmed my suspicions.
“Your signature is already on the file. The smart thing to do would be not to complicate things.”
The silence became unbearable.
At that moment my phone vibrated.
It was Veronica.
I opened his message.
I had managed to identify Consultoría Altamar using the data recorded in the file.
The company had been established months earlier.
And one of his representatives had also been involved in several of the Holguín family’s real estate transactions.
But that wasn’t what took my breath away.
Veronica attached a digital copy of a supplementary document.
It was an authorization to access confidential financial information of Propiedades Brasa del Pacífico.
And in the section for the internal manager, there appeared a name I had known for twenty years.
Arturo Beltrán.
My financial director.
The man who had been by my side since Romero Urban Design occupied just two rented offices.
The man who knew my accounts, my investments, and my expansion plans.
The man in whom she had placed almost absolute trust.
But the worst came a few seconds later.
Veronica called me.
Disputed.
And I heard a warning that chilled me to the bone.
“Isabel, I just reviewed the preliminary logs. Someone has already downloaded confidential documents from your company. And the access was made using Arturo’s credentials.”
CHAPTER 4
“Arturo didn’t just download the documents. Someone tried to use them to obtain funding.”
Veronica’s voice reached me with terrifying clarity.
I separated myself from the group of guests.
“Explain yourself.”
“There is a credit assessment request linked to a real estate transaction. It includes information about your properties, income projections, and corporate documents that should not be in the hands of third parties.”
I looked towards the living room.
Daniel continued to confront Mr. Holguín.
Carlota remained next to her mother, clutching the phone to her chest.
And I understood something painful.
I was not just witnessing the arrogance of a wealthy family.
I was seeing the consequences of a betrayal that could have been planned for months.
“Has any credit been granted?” I asked.
“We don’t have evidence of that yet. But we must act before they try to formalize any guarantees.”
“Prepare measures to protect the company. I want a review of all access and authorizations.”
“I will. And I need you to keep the original documents.”
I hung up.
For a few seconds I observed the dark vineyards behind the windows.
I remembered Romero Urban Design’s first office.
Used desks.
Sleepless nights.
The times when I had to choose between paying myself a salary or paying my employees.
Arturo had been there.
I had seen all of that.
