Chapter 5 - The Grand Illusion
I found Dr. Aris finishing up in Isabella’s room. He was a discreet man, accustomed to the dark secrets of the wealthy, but his face was grim as he packed his medical bag.
“Second-degree friction burns, severe physical exhaustion, and signs of mild malnutrition,” Dr. Aris murmured quietly as we stepped into the hallway. “I have bandaged her hands and prescribed a soothing ointment, along with something to help her sleep. David… what the hell is going on here?”
“A mistake,” I said smoothly, shaking his hand and sliding a very thick envelope of cash into his pocket. “One that I am currently correcting. I trust you will keep this entirely confidential until I require your official medical testimony.”
Dr. Aris nodded, his eyes flashing with understanding. “Whenever you need me. Watch over that little girl.”
After he left, I walked into the master bedroom. Beatriz was sitting on the edge of the bed, attempting to look distressed. When I entered, she stood up, wringing her hands perfectly.
“David, what did the doctor say? Is she alright? I feel terrible, I really had no idea the bags were that heavy—”
I walked over, took her hands in mine, and forced the most convincing, loving smile I had ever faked in my life. I looked deeply into her eyes, burying my revulsion behind a mask of adoration.
“She’s fine, darling,” I lied, my voice smooth as silk. “The doctor said her skin is just sensitive. You were right. I’ve spoiled her too much, and she overexerted herself trying to prove a point to you. I overreacted in the garden. The stress from Dubai just caught up with me.”
Beatriz’s eyes widened in relief. The tension instantly drained from her shoulders, and she threw her arms around my neck, pressing herself against me. “Oh, David! I was so worried you were angry with me. I love you so much. I only want what's best for our family.”
“I know you do,” I whispered into her hair, resisting the urge to push her away. “In fact, to make up for my outburst, I think we should host a dinner party this weekend. Invite all our friends. Invite Julian. I want to celebrate the success of the Dubai project and my return to my beautiful wife.”
Beatriz pulled back, beaming with absolute triumph. She believed she had won. She believed her manipulation was flawless. “A party? Oh, that sounds magnificent! I'll wear the new diamond necklace you bought me. It will be perfect.”
“Perfect,” I agreed.
For the next four days, I played the role of the devoted, oblivious husband to absolute perfection. I kissed her cheek in the mornings, complimented her dresses, and signed a few minor financial documents she pushed across my desk, pretending not to read them.
But while she was busy ordering caviar and champagne for the party, I was moving pieces across a very different chessboard. I secretly met with my elite legal team and my head of cybersecurity. I handed over the flash drive. Within forty-eight hours, my team had traced the stolen two million euros to the Cypriot shell company. They also uncovered Julian’s deep gambling debts, the real reason he needed the cash so desperately.
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I quietly transferred every liquid asset, every property deed, and every stock portfolio out of our joint holding companies and into blind trusts under Isabella's name, naming myself as sole executor. I froze the secondary accounts Julian had access to, replacing the funds with heavily monitored dummy accounts that would flag any withdrawal attempt directly to the federal financial police.
I was building a steel cage around Beatriz and Julian, bar by invisible bar. And they were so blinded by their own greed and arrogance, they were happily walking right into it, holding hands.
