## CHAPTER 10 ### The True Heir
Camila did not stop the car.
The guards raised their weapons as she accelerated toward the courtyard.
“Mother,” I said.
“I see them.”
“You cannot drive through armed men.”
“I have hosted them at Christmas. Most of them will hesitate.”
“That is your plan?”
“Hesitation is often enough.”
The first guard stepped aside.
The second followed.
A third fired into the air.
Camila drove straight through the line and slammed the brakes beside the fountain.
News cameras swung toward us.
Board members scattered.
Daniel and Michael entered through separate service gates at the same time. Detective Moreno’s remaining officers were minutes behind.
I opened the passenger door.
Pain tore across my abdomen.
Blood had begun seeping through the bandage beneath the nurse’s uniform.
Camila saw it.
“You should stay in the car.”
“You brought me here to be seen.”
“I brought you here to speak.”
“Then help me stand.”
She wrapped one arm around my waist.
Together, we walked toward Arturo.
The man who had pretended to be weak for years stood beneath the terrace in a tailored black suit. Without the cane, he appeared taller. Stronger. His silver hair moved in the wind.
Bianca held the newborn against her chest.
Her face was bruised.
Rafael was nowhere in sight.
Arturo smiled when he saw me.
“Elena. You have always had terrible timing.”
“You should have killed me when you had the chance.”
Several reporters heard.
Questions erupted.
Arturo lifted one hand.
“Elena is recovering from a traumatic medical episode. She should not be here.”
“I was drugged by your physician.”
“An unfortunate accusation caused by confusion.”
“I have the blood results.”
His smile faded slightly.
“The child Bianca is holding is not hers.”
Bianca’s arms tightened around the infant.
Arturo looked at her.
“Do not listen to her.”
Bianca’s eyes filled with tears.
“Whose baby is this?” I asked her.
“I don’t know.”
Arturo’s hand closed around her shoulder.
“She is exhausted.”
“She said you forced her to carry another child.”
Murmurs spread among the board members.
Arturo addressed the cameras.
“My daughter has suffered from mental health difficulties for years. Her statements cannot be trusted.”
Bianca flinched.
I recognized the tactic.
He had used it on me.
Drugs. Doubt. Public concern shaped into a weapon.
“You told her the man she struck died,” I said. “You used his death to control her.”
Arturo’s expression remained composed.
“Elena—”
“You placed Elias Ward’s body in Daniel’s car.”
For the first time, shock moved through the crowd.
Daniel stepped from behind the board members.
Several people screamed.
Arturo looked at him.
Then Michael appeared on the opposite side.
The courtyard erupted.
Two men with the same face advanced toward Arturo.
News cameras captured everything.
Daniel spoke first.
“You spent nine years telling the world I was dead.”
Michael continued.
“And thirty-five years telling me I belonged to you.”
Arturo looked from one to the other.
“You both belong to me more than you understand.”
Camila stepped forward.
“No one belongs to you.”
Arturo’s gaze settled on his wife.
“After everything I protected you from?”
“You protected your name.”
“I protected our children.”
“You exchanged them.”
Board members began shouting questions.
Arturo raised his voice.
“There was no exchange. Camila is distraught.”
Daniel held up a folder.
“We have DNA evidence.”
It was partly a bluff. The complete tests were still being verified.
Arturo could not know that.
The board chairman demanded a private recess.
I refused.
“The Valdés family has hidden its crimes in private rooms for decades. This conversation remains public.”
Applause rose from some of the reporters.
Arturo’s face hardened.
“You imagine public attention makes you powerful.”
“No. It makes your usual methods harder.”
“Where is my son?” Camila asked.
“Which one?”
The cruelty of the answer struck everyone.
Camila slapped him.
Arturo did not react.
Instead, he looked toward Bianca.
“Give me the child.”
She stepped away.
“No.”
“Bianca.”
“I said no.”
The baby began crying.
Arturo reached for her.
Bianca turned and ran toward me.
A gunshot cracked from the terrace.
Stone exploded beside her feet.
Guests screamed.
Tomas Reyes stood above us holding a rifle.
Arturo looked furious.
“I did not order that.”
Tomas aimed again.
Not at Bianca.
At Arturo.
“Move away from the baby.”
Arturo stared at his security chief.
“After thirty years?”
“After thirty years.”
Tomas descended the stairs slowly.
Rafael appeared behind him, blood covering one side of his face.
Relief nearly dropped me to the ground.
He had one hand pressed against his ribs.
Two armed guards followed him, now loyal to Tomas.
Rafael looked at me.
“You left the hospital.”
“You signed a marriage contract.”
Even then, he almost smiled.
“I deserved that.”
He moved beside me.
The board chairman demanded all weapons be lowered.
No one listened.
Tomas pointed toward the newborn.
“That child was delivered by a surrogate at the Valdés clinic this morning.”
“Whose child?” I asked.
“Genetically, she is Arturo’s daughter.”
Silence fell.
Bianca stared at the baby in her arms.
Arturo’s face became unreadable.
“You used your own genetic material?” Rafael asked.
Tomas nodded.
“Arturo planned to declare her Bianca’s child, then control the trust as grandfather and legal guardian.”
Bianca looked sick.
“You made me believe I gave birth to her.”
“He used sedatives and staged photographs.”
“I felt her moving.”
“You were pregnant,” Tomas said. “But your baby was delivered last year.”
“Where is my baby?”
Tomas looked toward Arturo.
Arturo said nothing.
Bianca screamed at him.
“Where is my child?”
Arturo remained calm.
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“With a family that can care for him.”
“Him?”
Bianca’s face crumpled.
“A son?”
Camila covered her mouth.
Arturo had hidden a grandson for almost a year.
The board chairman demanded Arturo step down pending investigation.
Arturo laughed.
“You cannot remove me. I control forty-eight percent of the voting shares.”
“Not after Elena turns thirty,” Rafael said.
“She will not turn thirty with legal capacity.”
I looked at the cameras.
“My doctors have confirmed I was drugged. I have requested an independent evaluation.”
Arturo’s gaze sharpened.
“Then you will fail it.”
Daniel lifted another document.
“Not when we prove the capacity order was written by Marcus Vale, a federal prosecutor living under a false identity.”
Arturo’s composure finally cracked.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“So Marcus is alive,” Daniel said. “And Elias Ward may be alive too.”
Tomas looked toward him.
“Elias is alive.”
“Where?”
“In the underground medical wing.”
Arturo turned toward Tomas.
“You fool.”
“You told me to keep him alive.”
“You were told never to reveal him.”
“I stopped following orders.”
Police sirens approached.
Detective Moreno’s vehicles came through the vineyard road.
Arturo looked around the courtyard.
For the first time, he understood the walls were closing.
Then he smiled.
“You believe this ends with my arrest.”
He pressed a button on his watch.
An explosion shook the west wing.
Flames burst through the roof.
The ground moved beneath us.
The estate’s lower windows shattered.
Daniel shouted that the underground archive was beneath the burning wing.
Arturo grabbed Bianca.
He pressed a small blade to her throat and pulled her backward.
Tomas fired.
The bullet struck Arturo’s shoulder.
He released Bianca but remained standing.
Smoke rolled across the courtyard.
Guards loyal to Arturo opened fire from the balconies.
Rafael pushed me behind the fountain.
Michael covered the infant with his body.
Police returned fire.
Camila crawled toward Bianca.
Through the smoke, Arturo disappeared into the house.
Daniel started after him.
Tomas stopped him.
“He is going below.”
“To Elias?”
“To destroy him.”
Daniel ran toward the burning doorway.
Rafael tried to follow.
I caught his arm.
“You can barely stand.”
“My father knows where Bianca’s son is.”
“So does Tomas.”
We turned.
Tomas was gone.
Bianca clutched the newborn while Camila held her.
Michael looked toward the service tunnel.
“He went after Arturo.”
A new explosion shook the ground.
Part of the terrace collapsed into the underground level.
A section of floor opened beside the fountain.
From below came a man’s voice.
Weak.
Terrified.
“Elena Hart!”
I crawled toward the opening.
A burned man stood behind a metal door beneath us.
His face was scarred beyond recognition.
But he wore Daniel’s watch.
“Elena,” he called again. “Your mother is alive.”
Then flames swept through the corridor behind him.
May you like
And the ceiling began to fall.
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