Chapter 6: The Man Who Wanted Elena’s Daughter
Clara had never seen Ricardo afraid.
Not until that morning.
The man who could silence entire rooms with one look was standing outside her bedroom door, unsure whether to knock.
That frightened her more than his anger ever could.
She opened the door.
“What happened?””
Ricardo looked at her.
“There’s something I need to ask.””
She noticed his expression.
“This is about Victor.””
He froze.
“How do you know that name?””
Clara looked down.
“Because my mother wrote it.””
Ricardo’s heart tightened.
“What did she write?””
Clara walked to the desk and opened a small notebook.
“She kept this hidden.””
Ricardo took it carefully.
The pages were old.
Some were torn.
Some were stained.
Clara pointed to one page.
“My mother wrote this after I turned eighteen.””
Ricardo read.
If Clara ever meets Ricardo, she must know the truth. She was never a secret because I was ashamed. She was hidden because Victor wanted to take her.
Ricardo looked up.
“Why didn’t you show me this before?””
“I didn’t know who you were.””
Clara’s voice became quiet.
“I didn’t even know Ricardo Vale existed.””
He nodded.
That answer hurt.
Because she was telling the truth.
She had grown up without him because someone decided she should.
Dante spent the morning tracking Victor’s movements.
By noon, he found something.
“Boss.””
Ricardo looked up.
“What?””
“Victor has been watching Clara for years.””
Ricardo stood immediately.
“How?””
“Private investigators. Fake names. Different companies.””
Dante placed photographs on the desk.
Ricardo picked them up.
The first showed Clara leaving college.
The second showed her working at the restaurant.
The third showed her walking home.
His hands tightened.
“He knew where she was.””
“Yes.””
“And he did nothing?””
Dante looked serious.
“He was waiting.””
Ricardo looked at the pictures.
“Waiting for what?””
Dante didn’t answer.
Because both men already knew.
That evening, Ricardo brought Clara to the old Vale estate.
The place where Elena had lived.
The place where Clara should have grown up.
She walked through the rooms silently.
“This was her home?””
Ricardo nodded.
“She loved this place.””
Clara touched the wall.
“She would have hated that I never saw it.””
Ricardo looked at her.
“She would have hated that I never found you.””
The honesty surprised her.
For a moment, neither knew what to say.
Then Clara noticed something.
A painting above the fireplace.
Elena.
Young.
Smiling.
“She looks happy.””
Ricardo smiled sadly.
“She was.””
Clara studied the portrait.
“Did she love you?””
The question was unexpected.
Ricardo looked at the painting.
“With everything she had.””
“Then why didn’t she tell you about me?””
That question had no easy answer.
“I don’t know.””
And admitting that seemed harder than anything.
Later that night, Ricardo found Clara sitting outside.
He sat beside her.
For a while, they said nothing.
Then she spoke.
“I used to imagine meeting my father.””
Ricardo looked at her.
“What did you imagine?””
“That he would know everything.””
She smiled sadly.
“That he would have answers.””
Ricardo looked down.
“I’m sorry.””
“You say that a lot.””
“Because I mean it.””
Clara looked at him.
“You’re trying.””
The words surprised him.
Because they sounded like forgiveness.
Not complete.
Not yet.
But possible.
Then her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
Ricardo immediately stood.
“Don’t answer.””
But Clara did.
“Hello?””
A voice came through.
A woman’s voice.
Old.
Shaking.
“Clara?””
She froze.
“Who is this?””
The woman started crying.
“I’ve been trying to find you.””
Ricardo moved closer.
“Who is it?””
Clara covered the phone.
“I don’t know.””
The woman continued.
“Your mother told me if anything happened, I had to tell you.””
Clara’s face changed.
“Tell me what?””
A pause.
Then the woman whispered:
“The man you call your father…”
Ricardo looked at Clara.
The woman continued:
“He isn’t the only person who was lied to.””
The call suddenly ended.
Clara stared at the phone.
Then it rang again.
This time, a message appeared.
A photo.
Ricardo looked over her shoulder.
It was Elena.
Holding baby Clara.
But someone else was standing beside them.
Someone Ricardo recognized.
Victor.
May you like
And underneath the picture was a message.
You still don’t know what happened that night.
