Chapter 9 - My Father Betrayed Us—or So Ambrose Wanted Me to BelieveMy father stood beside Lucía.
A gun was pressed against her shoulder.
I raised my hands.
“Let her go.”
Ambrose laughed.
“You still think this is about violence.”
“What is it about?”
“Choice.”
He looked at my father.
“Your father chose wrong.”
My father stared at him.
“You're finished.”
Ambrose smiled.
“Not yet.”
He turned to me.
“Walk.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Walk to us.”
I took one step.
Then another.
Lucía smiled.
“Good.”
I kept walking.
My legs hurt.
But they worked.
I stopped five feet away.
Ambrose smiled.
“You were always the prize.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“The research.”
“No.”
“The company.”
“No.”
I looked at Lucía.
“She is the prize.”
Ambrose smiled.
“Exactly.”
My father suddenly moved.
He grabbed Lucía and threw himself behind a pillar.
Gunfire erupted.
Chaos.
Diego and security fired back.
I ran.
My father pushed Lucía toward me.
“Take her!”
We escaped backstage.
Ambrose's men followed.
My father stayed behind.
“Go!”
“No!”
“Trust me.”
I grabbed Lucía.
We ran.
Behind us came three shots.
Then silence.
We reached the street.
I turned.
My father wasn't there.
Lucía held my hand.
“He'll be okay.”
“How do you know?”
“He promised.”
We returned to the safe house.
Hours passed.
No word.
Then Elena appeared.
She was injured.
I nearly attacked her.
“You betrayed me.”
She cried.
“I was forced.”
“By whom?”
“Ambrose.”
“How long?”
“Three years.”
I stared.
“You helped him?”
“I had no choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
She looked at Lucía.
“They had my daughter.”
I froze.
“What?”
“They threatened her.”
“So you kidnapped Lucía?”
“I was trying to move her somewhere safe.”
“Then why did she disappear?”
“Because they intercepted me.”
I didn't know what to believe.
She handed me a USB drive.
“Your father wanted you to have this.”
The drive contained a recording.
My father appeared.
“Alejandro.”
He looked exhausted.
“Ambrose will try to make you believe I betrayed you.”
“He will say I created Lumen for money.”
“I did not.”
“I created it because your mother was dying.”
I froze.
My mother had died when I was twelve.
But perhaps—
“She was suffering from a neurological disorder.”
“We were trying to save her.”
“The treatment was incomplete.”
“Then the investors took control.”
“My mistake was letting them.”
My father looked directly into the camera.
“I was willing to sacrifice myself.”
“But never my children.”
The recording ended.
I cried.
For the first time, I understood him.
He had made terrible choices.
But he had never stopped loving us.
Then we received another message.
YOUR FATHER IS ALIVE.
COME TO THE HOSPITAL.
I went.
He was in intensive care.
Barely conscious.
He grabbed my hand.
“The final test.”
“What?”
“Lumen requires two people.”
“Who?”
He looked at Lucía.
“Her.”
“Why?”
“She carries the neurological pattern.”
“And me?”
“You carry the damaged tissue.”
“What happens if we combine them?”
“The treatment becomes permanent.”
I understood.
That was what Ambrose wanted.
A permanent regenerative treatment.
He wanted us to prove it.
My father whispered:
“Don't let them turn her into a laboratory.”
“I won't.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
He closed his eyes.
Then smiled.
“You finally stood.”
I laughed through tears.
“Yes.”
He whispered:
“Your mother would have been proud.”
That night, we learned Ambrose had taken over the largest biomedical facility in Barcelona.
And he had announced a private demonstration.
The world would watch.
He would present the miraculous recovery of Alejandro Romero.
And he would reveal the child who made it possible.
Lucía.
We knew what he was planning.
May you like
A public spectacle.
But we would turn it against him.
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