Chapter 2 - The Two Envelopes
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Guests shifted in their mahogany chairs, their whispers dying in their throats. Beside Teresa, Paulina Mier stood holding a champagne glass, her lips curved into a quiet, victorious smile that suggested she had waited months for this moment. Rodrigo looked down at his shoes, his face flushed red, entirely unable to look me in the eye.
"Daniela, dear, there's no need to cause a scene," Teresa murmured, her tone dripping with condesending pity. "We are only asking for clarity. For the family name."
"Clarity is precisely what I am offering you, Teresa," I replied, my voice steady, echoing off the high ceilings of the country club banquet hall.
I slid the first envelope across the white tablecloth. It was heavy, stamped with the official seal of the state forensic laboratory.
"Open it," I said smoothly.
Teresa frowned, her manicured fingers hesitating before touching the paper. She looked at Rodrigo, expecting him to step in, to tell me to stop, to shield her from whatever was inside. But Rodrigo was frozen, paralyzed by the weight of the room's sudden tension.
"Go ahead," I repeated, bouncing Lucía gently on my hip. Lucía had quieted down, her small fingers wrapping tightly around the collar of my shirt, her wide, ocean-blue eyes looking directly at her grandmother. "Read it out loud. Since you were kind enough to share your doubts with fifty of your closest friends, you should share the answer as well."
With a sharp flick of her wrist, Teresa tore the envelope open. She pulled out the document, her eyes scanning the page.
The silence stretched long and agonizing. I watched as the color slowly drained from her face. Her posture, usually rigid and commanding, softened into confusion, then outrage.
"This... this is nonsense," she whispered.
"Read the conclusion, Teresa," I commanded.
Her lips trembled. "The probability of paternity is ninety-nine point nine, nine, eight percent. Rodrigo Aranda is the biological father of Lucía Aranda."
A collective murmur rippled through the room. Uncles, aunts, business partners, and high-society acquaintances leaned in, whispering behind their cloth napkins. The narrative Teresa had meticulously constructed—the quiet, calculated destruction of the outsider wife—had crumbled in three seconds flat.
Rodrigo gasped, looking up at me as if waking from a trance. "Daniela... you did a DNA test?"
"I had to," I said, looking straight at him, letting my gaze cut through his weak, pleading eyes. "Because when your mother told you that your daughter didn't look like you, you didn't defend her. You didn't defend me. You sat at our kitchen table, opened your laptop, and began discussing how to split our assets before Lucía even blew out her first birthday candle."
Paulina’s smile vanished completely. She took a step back, trying to blend into the floral wallpaper, but I turned my attention directly to her.
"Don't leave yet, Paulina," I said. "We haven't gotten to the second envelope."
Teresa’s hands began to shake. "Daniela, that is enough! You have proven your point. We made a mistake regarding the baby's parentage, but there is no need to make a spectacle—"
"A spectacle?" I laughed, a cool, quiet sound. "You invited fifty people to accuse me of infidelity at my child's birthday party, and now you want privacy? No, Teresa. You opened this stage. I am simply finishing the performance."
I picked up the second envelope, which was significantly thicker than the first, and slapped it down on the table right next to Teresa’s untouched glass of wine.
"That envelope," I said, addressing the room, "contains three years of financial records. It shows how Teresa Aranda used her position on the board of the Aranda Family Trust to divert funds into offshore holding accounts. It shows how she promised Paulina Mier's father a fifteen percent stake in the family business in exchange for securing Paulina a position as Rodrigo’s second wife after my planned removal."
Rodrigo’s head snapped toward his mother. "What? Mom, what is she talking about?"
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"She's lying!" Teresa shrieked, her sweet facade completely breaking down into raw, ugly panic. "She’s insane! Rodrigo, take the baby from her! She's trying to ruin us!"
"I don't need to ruin you, Teresa," I said softly, taking a step back toward the doors. "You did that all by yourself."
