Chapter 6: The Groom Who Finally Said No
Gabriel read the message a second time.
Then he tore the card in half.
Patricia gasped.
“Have you lost your mind?””
“No,” he said.
“I think I'm finally getting it back.””
He dropped the torn pieces into the wastebasket beside the vanity.
For the first time that morning, his attention wasn't on the wedding schedule, the waiting guests, or the reputation his mother had spent years protecting.
He was looking at the woman who had raised him.
And he was afraid of what he was seeing.
“Mom, why does Dad want to stop Elena from speaking to the notary?””
Patricia folded her arms.
“Because Arturo Salcedo is a disgraced man who should never have been involved in your lives.””
“That's not what the note says.””
“Your father has his reasons.””
“Then let him explain them.””
“He will explain nothing to you while you're behaving like this.””
Gabriel gave a hollow laugh.
“Like what? Asking questions?””
“Betraying your family.””
He looked at me.
For a moment, I thought he might retreat into the same familiar pattern, offering me an apology and asking me to wait until the wedding was over.
Instead, he took off his cuff links.
He placed them carefully on the vanity, beside my engagement ring.
“I need to make a phone call.””
Patricia stared at him.
“To whom?””
“Someone who can tell me whether that document is real.””
“You cannot investigate your own father on the morning of your wedding.””
“Apparently, the morning of my wedding is when my family decided to investigate my future wife.””
He stepped into the corridor and dialed a number.
I couldn't hear the entire conversation, but I caught enough.
“It's Gabriel de la Vega.””
A pause.
“No, this isn't about the ceremony.””
Another pause.
“I need to know whether a notary named Arturo Salcedo is still practicing.””
Patricia moved toward the door.
I blocked her path.
“Let him finish.””
She glared at me.
“You have already done enough damage.””
I looked down at my mother's uneven hair.
“No. Your family did that.””
In the corridor, Gabriel stopped speaking.
He listened for several seconds, then slowly sat on a small upholstered bench.
“What do you mean he filed a complaint?””
My mother stood.
I caught her elbow.
“Mamá, sit down.””
She shook her head.
“No. I need to hear this.””
Gabriel looked through the open doorway.
“Apparently, Arturo Salcedo was accused of mishandling several business documents twenty years ago. His license was suspended pending an investigation.””
Patricia exhaled in relief.
“Exactly. As I said.””
Gabriel raised one finger.
“Wait.””
He listened again.
Then his face changed.
“What?””
The person on the other end continued speaking.
Gabriel looked at the photograph in my hand.
“Are you telling me the complaint was withdrawn?””
He listened.
“And the case was closed because the original documents could not be located?””
Another pause.
He stood abruptly.
“Who filed the complaint?””
His gaze shifted to his mother.
She was staring at him, her face rigid.
Gabriel ended the call.
“Dad filed the complaint against Arturo Salcedo,” he said.
My mother slowly sank back into the chair.
I felt the floor tilt beneath me.
Patricia lifted her chin.
“Ricardo had every right to protect his business.””
“From what?”” Gabriel demanded.
“From an incompetent notary.””
“Then why was the complaint withdrawn?””
“Ask your father.””
“I just did. He won't answer.””
Patricia's eyes narrowed.
“Because you're making a scene instead of behaving like a man who understands responsibility.””
Gabriel stepped toward her.
“Responsibility?””
His voice rose for the first time.
“You taught me that responsibility meant protecting the family name. You taught me that a man must never let outsiders see weakness. You taught me that keeping the peace was more important than asking uncomfortable questions.””
Patricia's lips pressed together.
“And I have spent my entire life believing you.””
He glanced at Elena.
“Look at what that has cost.””
My mother turned her face away.
I wanted to hold her, to take her somewhere quiet, somewhere nobody knew the de la Vegas, somewhere she could sit in the sunlight without worrying about what anyone thought of her.
But Gabriel wasn't finished.
“I want to see Dad's safe.””
Patricia laughed sharply.
“Absolutely not.””
“Why?””
“Because it contains confidential business records.””
“Then I will look at them with him.””
“He is not going to let you.””
“Then I'll ask him why.””
Patricia reached for his arm.
“Gabriel, listen to me. If you walk out of this room and start accusing your father, you will destroy everything.””
He looked at her hand until she released him.
“Maybe everything deserves to be examined.””
She recoiled as if he had slapped her.
Vanessa stood near the vanity, holding her phone.
“I have something,” she said quietly.
We all turned toward her.
She unlocked the screen and began scrolling through an old cloud backup.
“My old phone broke a few years ago. Most of the photographs transferred to my account.””
Her fingers moved faster.
“Here.””
She held up the screen.
It showed a photograph of a yellowed document lying on a wooden desk.
The text was difficult to read, but the signature at the bottom was clear.
*Ricardo de la Vega.*
And beside it, another signature.
*Daniel Márquez.*
My mother's hand flew to her mouth.
“That looks like his handwriting.””
I leaned closer.
The photograph had been taken at an angle, but I could read the first few lines.
It wasn't a settlement.
It was a partnership agreement.
The document stated that Daniel Márquez owned forty percent of the company and that his share would pass to his legal heirs if he died before the partnership ended.
At the bottom, there was a notary's seal.
Arturo Salcedo.
Gabriel stared at the screen.
“Why would Dad keep this?””
Vanessa scrolled to the next image.
It showed another page, dated several months later.
This time, the document purported to transfer my father's forty percent share to Ricardo de la Vega.
But the signature was wrong.
Even in the blurry photograph, the difference was obvious.
The first signature flowed naturally across the page.
The second looked stiff and uneven.
My mother began to cry again, but these were different tears.
“My husband didn't give away his share,” she whispered.
“He never would have done that without telling me.””
Patricia stepped forward.
“Those photographs prove nothing. You cannot establish the authenticity of a document from a phone screen.””
“Then let's establish it,” I replied.
I took out my own phone and photographed the screen.
Vanessa didn't resist.
Patricia's face hardened.
“Delete those.””
“No.””
“Camila, you have no idea what you're doing.””
“I know that my father may have been robbed, and that your family has spent twenty years telling my mother she was mistaken.””
“Be careful.””
I looked directly at her.
“You should have been careful twenty years ago.””
For a moment, I thought she might strike me.
Instead, she turned to Gabriel.
“Your father will never forgive you for this.””
Gabriel took a long breath.
“Then he'll have to learn how to live with disappointment.””
He walked toward the door.
I caught his sleeve.
“Where are you going?””
“To speak to him.””
“Gabriel, wait.””
He turned.
I looked at him, at the man I had once imagined growing old beside.
“If your father admits that my family's share was stolen, what will you do?””
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, “I'll help you get it back.””
“And if he refuses?””
His eyes held mine.
“Then I'll stop protecting him.””
For the first time that morning, I believed he might mean it.
But belief was not forgiveness.
I glanced at the ring on the vanity.
“You still haven't apologized to my mother.””
Gabriel looked toward Elena.
His shoulders dropped.
“Señora Elena, I'm sorry.””
My mother said nothing.
He swallowed.
“I saw you crying, and I knew Vanessa had done something cruel. I chose to protect my family instead of protecting you. I was wrong.””
Elena's eyes glistened.
“You were wrong,” she agreed quietly.
Gabriel nodded, accepting the words without defending himself.
“I understand if you can't forgive me.””
My mother looked at him for a long moment.
“Forgiveness is not the same as trust, Gabriel.””
“I know.””
“No,” she said.
“You don't. Not yet.””
He lowered his head.
I felt a flicker of sympathy, but I refused to let it become another excuse.
“Go speak to your father,” I said.
“But don't ask me to stand beside you at the altar until I know what kind of man you are when the truth costs you something.””
Gabriel nodded.
He left the suite without looking at the wedding schedule.
Vanessa followed him to the door, then stopped.
She looked at my mother.
“I'm sorry about your hair.””
Elena touched the uneven strands beside her ear.
“You didn't cut it because you were sorry for me.””
Vanessa's face reddened.
“No,” she admitted.
“I didn't.””
“Then don't apologize because you're afraid of what happens next.””
Vanessa looked down.
For once, she had no clever response.
She left quietly.
Patricia remained.
She approached the vanity and picked up my engagement ring.
I moved toward her.
“Put it down.””
She held it between two fingers.
“Do you know what this ring represents?””
“Yes,” I said.
“A promise.””
“It represents a family. A future. A life you may never have again if you walk away today.””
I extended my hand.
“Give it to me.””
She dropped the ring into my palm.
Then she leaned close enough that only I could hear her next words.
“You think you're uncovering a crime, Camila. But you are opening a door that your mother has spent twenty years keeping closed.””
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?””
Patricia straightened her jacket.
“Ask her why your father was in the hospital the night the original agreement disappeared.””
My mother made a small, strangled sound behind me.
I turned.
She was staring at Patricia with naked terror.
And suddenly, I realized there was another piece of the story neither the photograph nor the agreement could explain.
I took my mother's hands.
“Mamá, what happened that night?””
She shook her head.
“Please, Camila. Not now.””
“Why?””
Her eyes filled.
“Because your father didn't go to the hospital by himself.””
She looked toward the door Gabriel had just walked through.
“He went there to meet Ricardo.””
My stomach tightened.
“And when he came home, he told me that if anything happened to him, I must never trust the de la Vegas again.””
The room seemed to stop breathing.
My mother reached into the small handbag she had carried to the wedding and removed an old, folded piece of paper.
“I have kept this for twenty years,” she whispered.
She unfolded it with shaking fingers.
It was a hospital visitor's record, dated the night before my father's final surgery.
Two names had been written beneath the same appointment time.
Daniel Márquez.
Ricardo de la Vega.
But beside Ricardo's name, someone had added a note in red ink.
*VISITOR DENIED ACCESS BY FAMILY REQUEST.*
My mother looked at me.
“Your father was already unconscious when Ricardo arrived.””
I stared at the paper.
“Who denied him access?””
Elena's lips trembled.
“I did.””
I stepped back.
For the first time that morning, I didn't know whether my mother had been the victim of the de la Vegas, or whether she had been hiding a secret of her own.
And before I could ask another question, my phone rang.
The unknown number was calling.
I answered immediately.
A man's voice spoke from the other end, low and urgent.
“Miss Márquez? My name is Arturo Salcedo. I've been trying to reach your mother for twenty years.””
I gripped the phone.
“Why?””
“Because your father left something in my custody before he died. Something Ricardo de la Vega has been searching for ever since.””
I looked at my mother.
She had gone completely white.
The man's next sentence made her sink into the chair.
“Your father didn't just leave you his share of the company, Miss Márquez. He left you the evidence that could prove who stole it.””
May you like
And then Arturo said the one thing that changed everything.
“But before I can give it to you, you need to know why your mother told the hospital to keep Ricardo away from your father that night.””
