Chapter 2 Stranger in My Own Home

The mansion is quiet when I hear Carlos packing is Mercedes-Maybach Exelero at the garage, the front door creak open at 2 AM.

Click. The lock turns. I've been sitting in the dark living room for hours. My tea is cold, untouched on the table beside me. I've been going over the questions in my head again and again.

Thump. Thump. Carlos's heavy footsteps echo in the hall. They stop when he sees my shape sitting in the shadows.

"Emily? Why are you still awake?" His voice is a little slurred, he's been drinking, expensive whiskey by the smell of it.

I reach out and turn on the lamp. Click. The warm light fills the room. I stare at him. My eyes are puffy, I cried, even though I promised myself I wouldn't.

"We need to talk," I say.

He sighs loudly and tugs at his silk tie, annoyed. "It's late, Emily. Can't this wait until morning?"

"Like our anniversary dinner waited?" My voice comes out sharper than I expected. I've gotten good at hiding how I feel, playing the perfect wife. But tonight... something feels different. I can't hold it in anymore.

"The meeting ran long," Carlos snaps, throwing his jacket over the couch like it means nothing. "These investors are important for the Westside deal. You know how much this means."

"Where's Daniela?" I ask, watching him closely.

As if I'd called her, Daniela walks in, still wearing that red Valentino dress, The off-shoulder one."I'm right here," she says sweetly, but her eyes are sharp and cold. "Dinner with the Rivera group went really well. They're giving us double what we expected."

She struts into the room like she owns it. Her perfume, my perfume, fills the air. She's holding the Patek Philippe silver watch I gave Carlos for our anniversary. It's out of the box, shining under the lamp.

"Nice gift," she says, twirling it in her fingers. "But Carlos has always liked gold better, haven't you, darling?"

Carlos glares at her, a warning in his eyes. "Ignore her, Emily. She's had too much wine."

Daniela laughs and flops onto the couch beside him, her leg brushing his. A small move. But it says a lot.

"Come on, we're all family here, right? No secrets," she says, smiling.

"Some more than others," I mumble.

Daniela's smile fades. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Before I can answer, a small voice breaks the tension.

"Mom, you said I could have ice cream if I stayed quiet during dinner."

Mateo stands in the doorway, fully dressed. No pajamas. My stomach drops.

Carlos bolts upright. "Mateo, it's late! You should be in bed!"

"But she promised," he says, pointing at Daniela.

"Enough!" Carlos snaps, panic rising in his voice. "Go to your room. Now."

Mateo looks at me like I'm the problem. "This is all her fault. Everything was better before."

"Mateo!" Carlos barks.

"No, let him talk," I say quietly, leaning in. "Go ahead, Mateo. What do you mean by that?"

Daniela jumps up, smoothing her Valentino dress with shaking hands. "Kids say silly things when they're tired. Come on, sweetie. Time for bed."

But Mateo doesn't move. He stands firm. "No! I'm tired of pretending."

The whole room freezes. Carlos and Daniela glance at each other, nervous. Like they're hiding something.

"Pretending what?" I ask. My heart starts racing. Something's off.

Mateo looks at Daniela, who shoots him a deadly look. He swallows hard.

"Pretending... that I like living here. I miss our old place. My old school. My friends."

Wait. That's not what Carlos told me. And the way they keep looking at each other-like they share secrets I don't know.

"Take him upstairs," Carlos growls at Daniela.

She grabs Mateo's arm-too rough. "Let's go. That's enough out of you."

As they walk out, Mateo looks back at me, cold and calm. "She doesn't belong here. She never will."

Carlos doesn't move until they're gone. Then he turns to me, trying to look concerned.

"I'm sorry. He's still getting used to everything. Trauma makes kids act out."

"After two years?" I ask, standing. "What exactly was he pretending about?"

Carlos sits down beside me and takes my hands. "Daniela spoils him since her husband died. It's made him... difficult."

"Where did they live before?" I ask suddenly.

He blinks, caught off guard. "What?"

"Mateo said he misses their apartment. You told me they lived with her in-laws after her husband passed."

Carlos hesitates, then says quickly, "Downtown. Near the business district. Why does it matter?"

I pull my hands away. "Because you never said anything about an apartment."

His jaw tightens. That twitch in his cheek returns. "Maybe I got it wrong. It's not important."

"You don't get important things wrong, Carlos."

Bang! A door slams upstairs. Then I hear Daniela's heels on the stairs. She comes back alone, calm again.

"He's in bed. Though he's very upset."

"Because of me?" I ask, not breaking eye contact.

She gives me a fake smile. "Not everything's about you. Mateo misses his father. It's an anniversary for him, too."

I take a deep breath. "Speaking of anniversaries... Did you finish the guest list for tomorrow's fundraiser? Alejandro Vega is showing the hospital designs. I hope you'll be there, since you've been so involved."

Carlos cuts in fast. "That architect? I hear he's hard to work with. Maybe we should find someone else."

"Sofia says he's amazing," I reply. His face darkens. He's never liked my best friend.

"I don't want Sofia poking into foundation matters," he says coldly. "She asks too many questions about our money."

"She's on the board. And my friend. And the money's transparent... isn't it?"

Something flickers in his eyes, fear? Then it's gone.

Daniela yawns. "This is boring. I'm going to bed." She kisses Carlos on the cheek, too long. "Goodnight."

Once she's gone, Carlos stands and reaches for my hand. "Let's go to bed, okay? I'm tired."

In the bedroom, he pulls me close. Kisses my neck. Starts unbuttoning my nightgown.

"I'm sorry about dinner. Let me make it up to you," he whispers.

But my mind is somewhere else. Memories swirl, his late-night calls, the trips that didn't add up, Mateo calling him "Daddy" by mistake.

"Emily?" He notices I'm not responding. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired," I lie, turning away.

"You're always tired," he whines. "Feels like you don't want me anymore."

I see the game, he's trying to twist things. Make it my fault.

"Maybe I'm tired of being the only one trying," I whisper, eyes on the ceiling.

His face hardens. "After all I give you? This house, the clothes, the cards?"

"Is that all I am? Something you bought?" I snap. "Let's not forget, my family funded your company."

"It was a loan. I paid it back ten times over!" he shouts. "Your family was broke. I saved you."

"Did you? Because I gave up my inheritance. And my thesis, you turned it into ReyCorp's first product."

Carlos runs his hands through his hair. "I'm not doing this again. You're being insecure."

He slams the bathroom door. Water runs. I lie there, staring at the ceiling.

Through the wall, I hear a faint voice. Daniela's talking on the phone. This late? What are they hiding?

Carlos returns, wet hair, clean. He gets into bed and turns away from me.

"Carlos," I say softly. "What would happen to my foundation if we divorced?"

He stiffens. "Why would you ask that?" "I'm just curious."

He turns to face me. "It would be gone. The money comes from my company. You know that."

"So the kids would lose their help? Their scholarships?"

"Yes," he says, calm and cold. "Is that what you want?" The threat is clear. Leave, and lose everything I built. "No," I whisper. "Of course not."

"Good. Get some sleep. You have the fundraiser tomorrow." He turns away. In the dark, I stare at the ceiling. I see it now. The control. The lies. The way he's slowly trapped me in this fancy cage.

My phone buzzes.

A message from Sofia: "The architect is confirmed. Alejandro Vega is brilliant and kind. You'll love his vision for the hospital." I hold the phone to my chest.

Tomorrow, I'll focus on the foundation. I'll talk to Sofia about the money issues she mentioned.

Tonight, I'll survive. But not forever. Not anymore.