But what he saw on the hidden cameras between his housekeeper and his daughters made his blood turn to ice.

That evening, the atmosphere inside the Duarte mansion was suffocating. Daniela and Martina stayed hidden inside their bedroom, locking the door from the inside with a small wooden chair jammed under the handle. Rosa sat in her small living quarters off the kitchen, nursing her bruised cheek and praying over a wooden rosary.

Above them all, Patricia walked the grand halls like a ghost claiming a haunted house. She felt invincible. In her mind, the plan was flawless. Emiliano was thousands of miles away in Europe, completely oblivious. The maid was terrified and discredited. The children were cowed.

She walked into the master bedroom—the room that had once belonged to Emiliano and Elena—and began opening drawers, tossing Elena’s leftover heirlooms into a designer tote bag. She picked up a framed photograph of Elena holding a newborn Daniela.

"Useless," Patricia sneered, throwing the silver frame into the fireplace, where the glass shattered into a hundred glittering shards.

Downstairs, the front gates opened.

Patricia froze. She looked out the window. A black sedan had pulled up to the main entrance. It wasn't the schedule. Emiliano wasn't supposed to return for another four days.

Panicking slightly, she stashed the amber vial into her pocket, straightened her silk dress, and smoothed her hair. She forced her face into her signature expression of delicate concern and glided down the grand staircase.

The front door opened. Emiliano walked in. He carried no luggage. He wore no smile. His eyes were dark, shadowed with exhaustion and something far more dangerous.

"Emiliano!" Patricia gasped, faking a breath of surprised delight as she rushed down the last few steps. "Darling! You’re back early! Is everything alright in Europe? You look so tired!"

She reached out to throw her arms around his neck, but Emiliano didn't move. He stood as still as a statue, letting her embrace him without returning the touch. His arms remained stiffly at his sides.

"The trip was shortened," Emiliano said, his voice flat, devoid of any warmth. "Where are the girls?"

"Oh, the sweet things are asleep upstairs," Patricia lied smoothly, rubbing his arm. "They missed you so much, but I made sure they had a warm dinner and went to bed early. They’ve been... a bit difficult lately, darling. I didn't want to worry you, but Rosa has been instigating them against me."

Emiliano slowly turned his head to look at her. "Has she?"

"Yes," Patricia sighed, squeezing her eyes shut as if fighting back tears. "I caught her today... oh, Emiliano, it breaks my heart to say this, but she stole my diamond bracelet. When I confronted her, she struck me! I had to lock myself in the room. She’s dangerous, Emiliano. We must fire her and call the police immediately."