Estrella descended the stairs slowly, her heels echoing loudly against the marble floor. Mariana was still talking, hurling her venomous darts, but Estrella no longer listened. Blood pounded in her ears, her thoughts tangled like a dark whirlwind.
She wouldn't spend another night under that cursed roof.
Without looking back, she walked out of the mansion, got into her sports car—one of the few luxuries she allowed herself—and drove aimlessly through the city's illuminated avenues until her trembling hands found meaning in a familiar direction: the Imperial Parador Hotel. A five-star refuge perched on a hill—elegant, discreet, and quiet. Just what she needed.
When she arrived, she booked an executive suite with no reservation. She paid with her personal card. Rode the elevator alone to the twenty-eighth floor. And when she finally stepped inside the room… she exhaled.
Dim lights. Linen sheets. A full-length window with a view of the city that never slept.
Estrella dropped her suitcase in a corner, kicked off her heels, and walked barefoot to the glass. She leaned her forehead against the cold surface. And then, for the first time that night, she cried.
She cried for the betrayal. For the years wasted with a man who never loved her. For Bárbara. For Mariana. For her mother.
For herself.
But when the tears dried, only a tired woman remained—a twenty-four-year-old facing truths she'd avoided for far too long.
The rage turned into clarity.
She was Estrella Sánchez, granddaughter of Augusto Araya, founder of the Automotive Innovation Corporation, CIA. Her mother, Camila Araya, had been the legitimate heir and majority shareholder… until her mysterious death.
Estrella still owned a percentage of shares left directly to her in a trust by her grandfather when she came of age. They were minor compared to the block her father now controlled, but enough to give her a voice… if she knew how to use it.
She stared at her reflection in the glass: red-rimmed eyes, smudged makeup—but the gaze… steady.
She was no longer the submissive girl who let adults make decisions for her.
She had money. She had intelligence. She had reasons.
And more than anything, she had a truth to uncover.
She walked over to the suite's desk, powered on her laptop, and opened the confidential folder containing CIA's most recent financial activity. She'd requested the files days ago out of mere formality… but now, something told her to look with different eyes.
Because her mother's accident… might not have been an accident at all.
And if Daniel, Bárbara, and Mariana had played her… they were going to regret it.
Figures passed before her eyes—endless columns of dividends, transfers, balance sheets. Estrella squinted and enlarged the screen, searching for an anomaly, a hint, a crack in the perfect facade of CIA.
Nothing. Everything was so clean, so meticulously arranged, it was suspicious.
She closed one file. Then another. Meetings. Financial reports. Ironclad contracts. On the surface, everything was under control. And yet, something didn't add up. She felt it. She knew it. Her mother's death, the sudden takeover of the shares, the way her father became the dominant shareholder so quickly… There was a buried truth. But she didn't yet know where to dig.
A yawn slipped from her lips. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a thick fog. She closed the laptop with a long, frustrated sigh and leaned back in the chair.
And then, like a stubborn, untimely ghost, he appeared in her thoughts.
Daniel.
His gaze. His deep, warm voice. His hands in hers. The way he stroked her cheek when she complained about her long workdays.
She had been in love. Madly in love.
He had always been sweet, attentive, protective. Never raised his voice. Always knew what to say to make her feel special. They'd known each other since they were teenagers, but it wasn't until they started working at CIA that their bond took on another dimension. Their grandfathers, Augusto Araya and Juan Serrano—old friends and founding partners—had planned it all from the beginning. "They'll be the future of the company," they said. The engagement was announced less than a year ago with elegance, press, toasts, and perfectly rehearsed smiles.
And though at first she had doubts—Love or strategy?—Daniel had won her over without pressure. With gestures. With slow kisses and whispered promises. Kisses that lingered longer than they should. Soft caresses that always stopped just short of the inevitable. They never consummated their relationship. By mutual decision—or at least that's what Estrella believed. He always said, "I want everything to be perfect when it happens, Estrella… I don't want you to be just another girl in my life. I want you to be the one."
Liar.
A knot formed in her throat. Had it all been an act? From the very beginning? Had he ever truly wanted her? Or was she just a bargaining chip, a useful pawn in the machinery the old men had built?
Now, with her grandfather retired due to illness and her mother dead, Daniel was the company's majority shareholder and CEO. Estrella only held a small block of shares, directly inherited from her grandfather. Legally she had a voice… but in a boardroom dominated by the Serranos, it was barely a whisper.
And on top of everything, Daniel had slept with Bárbara. Her half-sister. Her silent rival since childhood.
Estrella slid under the sheets without even undressing. The weight of exhaustion pulled at her bones, but the ache in her chest was deeper. She closed her eyes… and didn't see numbers or contracts. She saw Daniel's lips. The smile she thought was hers alone.
And for the first time, she wondered if he had ever loved her at all… or if she simply never had a choice.
A sharp pang of sadness pierced her at the thought that, at twenty-four, she was still a virgin. She had always believed that moment should be special—with someone who truly loved her. She thought it would be with Daniel… but he had only played with her heart.
Restless, she got out of bed and went down to the hotel bar. She didn't want to think—only to quiet the storm inside her chest. She sat alone at the counter and ordered a drink. Then another. And another. The alcohol burned, but it also numbed.
And that's when she saw him. Tall, with a perfectly symmetrical face, full lips, strong brows, sun-kissed skin, and dark eyes that sparkled mischievously. He wasn't an ordinary man. He was stunning. Magnetic. And he was looking at her.
Estrella approached, a sideways smile on her lips and a slightly hazy gaze. He looked tipsy too, with a glass of whiskey in hand and his tie loosened.
—"Are you alone?"—she asked, playfully.
He chuckled softly. —"Been that way for far too long."
They talked. Laughed. Flirted. Estrella didn't remember the exact words—only that, for the first time in a long while, she felt wanted. Not as a pawn in a family chessboard… but as a woman.
She kissed him. First shyly. Then hungrily. He pulled away for a second, surprised.
—"We shouldn't…"
—"You don't want to be alone tonight either,"—she whispered, stroking his jaw.
And he didn't say no. They let themselves be carried away by the moment, by the alcohol, by the unshackled desire. They got in the elevator together, holding hands, laughing in murmurs. When they reached the suite, the door closed behind them with a soft click…