Chapter 3 - Patricia Wasn't Working With One Man—She Was Connected to a Group That Had Been Planning to Take Control of My Companies for YearsThe man in the photograph was Samuel Voss.
He had once been my father's financial adviser.
Then he vanished.
My father had accused him of embezzlement.
I thought he'd fled the country.
Instead, he had been building something.
A network.
Patricia was part of it.
Victor was part of it.
Thomas was part of it.
And possibly someone else inside my family.
I called my older sister, Emilia.
She answered immediately.
“Adrian?”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Don't leave.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“Because I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Do you know Samuel Voss is alive?”
Another pause.
“I thought he was dead.”
So she hadn't known.
I trusted her.
For now.
I asked:
“Did Dad ever mention Patricia?”
“No.”
“Victor?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“What happened?”
I told her.
She became silent.
Then:
“Adrian, I think Dad knew something.”
“What?”
“He kept a red file.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Who does?”
Our mother's old lawyer.
Dead.
His assistant?
Alive.
We found her.
She gave me a key.
“Your father told me never to give this to anyone unless you were in danger.”
I stared at the small brass key.
“What's it open?”
“His old study.”
My father had died seven years earlier.
I had never gone through everything.
Maybe I should have.
We drove there.
The house had been empty for years.
The study still smelled like wood and tobacco.
I found the lock.
The key opened a drawer.
Inside was the red file.
My father's handwriting appeared across the front.
THE VOSS NETWORK.
My heart sank.
Inside were names.
Samuel Voss.
Victor.
Thomas.
Patricia.
And one more name.
My mother.
I stared.
My mother had been dead for five years.
She couldn't have been involved.
Could she?
I kept reading.
My father suspected she had unknowingly been manipulated.
The file continued.
Samuel wanted control of the family companies.
He couldn't take them legally.
So he needed an heir marriage.
Patricia was chosen because she had access to me.
She was supposed to marry me.
Then I would sign a power of attorney.
Once that happened, my companies could be transferred.
But there was another clause.
If my children were declared legally unfit, Patricia would gain temporary guardianship.
That explained the way she had been treating them.
She wasn't simply cruel.
She was building a case.
A record of “problematic behavior.”
A record that would make me look like an incapable father.
She was trying to make my daughters appear psychologically unstable.
And Rosa was the perfect scapegoat.
A housekeeper with no power.
A woman the public would believe had manipulated the children.
I felt sick.
I remembered every conversation.
Every time Patricia had whispered:
“Rosa fills their heads with nonsense.”
Every time she said:
“They don't respect you because she spoils them.”
She wasn't describing a problem.
She was creating one.
I asked Gabriel:
“How many cameras cover my daughters' room?”
“Four.”
“Check the hidden backup.”
He did.
The backup showed something Patricia hadn't known about.
A small camera inside the bookshelf.
It had been installed years earlier.
By my late wife.
My heart stopped.
The footage began.
Patricia entered the girls' room.
She closed the door.
Then she whispered:
“You're going to behave.”
Daniela said:
“I want Daddy.”
Patricia grabbed her chin.
“He won't know anything.”
Martina began crying.
Then Patricia put a small recorder on the floor.
She deliberately asked the girls questions.
Leading questions.
“Does Rosa tell you Daddy doesn't love you?”
“No.”
“Does Rosa tell you Patricia is bad?”
“No.”
Patricia repeated them.
Over and over.
She was manufacturing a story.
Then she left.
Rosa entered five minutes later.
She saw the recorder.
She picked it up.
She stared at it.
Then she placed it in a drawer.
She knew.
She had discovered what Patricia was doing.
I checked another recording.
Rosa sat beside the girls.
She whispered:
“If anyone asks, tell the truth.”
Daniela looked at her.
“What truth?”
“That your dad loves you.”
The girls hugged her.
I couldn't breathe.
Rosa wasn't poisoning my daughters against me.
She was protecting them from someone who was.
Then another recording began.
Patricia and Victor in the hallway.
Victor asked:
“Did you get the statement?”
“Yes.”
“What about Rosa?”
“Soon.”
“When?”
“After the wedding.”
Victor laughed.
“Do you think Adrian will suspect?”
Patricia smiled.
“Never.”
She kissed him.
Then she said:
“He trusts me more than anyone.”
I stared at the screen.
Those words hurt.
Because she was right.
May you like
I had trusted her.
But I wouldn't make that mistake twice.
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