Chapter 7 — The Night My Mother Betrayed Him

Isabella’s POV

“Because, anak, I was the reason he never came home.”

Mama's confession shattered something inside me.

I stared at her, waiting for her to explain, to tell me I had misunderstood. But she only cried, clutching her trembling hands against her chest.

“No,” I whispered. “You wouldn't do that to Papa.”

“Isabella, please listen.”

“Then tell me the truth!”

My voice echoed through the room. Alexander stood beside me, silent, his expression unreadable. For once, he didn't attempt to interfere.

Mama wiped her tears.

“That night, Daniel asked me to meet him outside an abandoned warehouse. He said he had evidence against the Monteverde family and wanted us to leave the country immediately.”

“Then what happened?”

“I went there, but I wasn't alone. Richard had followed me. He wanted the documents your father possessed.”

My stomach twisted.

“You brought Richard to Papa?”

She shook her head desperately. “I didn't know he was following me! I swear, Isabella.”

“Then why do you say you're responsible?”

Mama closed her eyes.

“Because I gave Daniel's location to someone else.”

The room fell silent.

“Who?” Alexander demanded.

Mama looked at him with an expression filled with hatred.

“Your father.”

Alexander froze.

“My father was dead before I even knew about Daniel's existence.”

“Your father was alive that night,” Mama replied. “He arrived at the warehouse before Richard. He told Daniel he could escape if he surrendered the documents.”

“And Daniel refused?”

“He refused because those documents contained evidence that Richard had destroyed innocent people's lives. Your father became furious. They argued, and then I heard a gunshot.”

My hands flew to my mouth.

“A gunshot?”

Mama nodded, trembling.

“I ran outside. Daniel was gone, and your father was standing beside a black car. He told me Daniel had escaped. He ordered me never to speak about what I witnessed.”

“Did you see him shoot Papa?” I demanded.

“No.” Her voice broke. “But I saw blood on his sleeve.”

Alexander staggered backward, shaking his head.

“That's impossible. My father wasn't a murderer.”

“Neither was mine!” I screamed.

He stopped.

Tears blurred my vision as I faced him.

“You want to defend your father because you loved him. I understand that. But I spent twenty-two years believing mine abandoned us. Do you understand what that feels like?”

Alexander's eyes glistened.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I do.”

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then Mama reached inside her blouse and removed a small silver pendant.

“Your father gave me this before everything happened. He told me that if anything went wrong, I should give it to you when you were old enough to understand.”

I took it with trembling fingers.

Inside the pendant was a tiny photograph of Papa holding a newborn baby.

Me.

Behind the photograph was a folded piece of paper.

Alexander carefully unfolded it beneath the light.

Three words were written in Daniel's handwriting.

Trust Victor Santos.

“Who's Victor Santos?” I asked.

Alexander's expression changed immediately.

“My father's former driver.”

Mama covered her mouth.

“He was there that night, too.”

Before Alexander could respond, someone knocked violently on the front door.

Three sharp knocks.

Then silence.

Alexander moved in front of us, reaching inside his jacket for his phone.

“Stay behind me.”

The door opened before he reached it.

A man in a gray suit entered, his face bruised and his breathing uneven. He looked directly at Alexander.

“Mr. Monteverde, you need to come with me.”

Alexander frowned.

“Who are you?”

“Victor Santos.”

My heart nearly stopped.

Victor looked at the pendant in my hand, and his expression crumbled.

“Miss Reyes,” he whispered. “You have your father's eyes.”

I stepped forward.

“Tell me what happened to him.”

Victor glanced nervously toward the hallway.

“Not here. We're being watched.”

Alexander immediately locked the door.

“Start talking.”

Victor swallowed hard.

“Daniel survived that night. I helped him escape after your father's car left the warehouse.”

The words struck me like lightning.

“He survived?”

“Yes, but he was badly injured. I took him to a private clinic outside Manila. Before sunrise, someone came looking for him.”

“Who?” I demanded.

Victor looked at Alexander.

“Your grandfather.”

Alexander's face hardened.

“What happened afterward?”

“Richard offered me money to keep quiet. When I refused, he threatened my family. I disappeared, believing Daniel was already dead.”

“But you said he survived!” I cried.

“He did. At least, until the night I received a call from him three days later.”

My heart pounded.

“Where was he?”

Victor reached into his pocket and produced a photograph.

It showed Papa standing beside a woman whose face had been scratched out.

On the back was an address and a date from two years ago.

Two years ago.

Not twenty-two.

I looked at Victor, my entire world collapsing again.

“Who is that woman?”

His eyes filled with sorrow.

“Your father contacted me shortly before he disappeared again. He told me he had another daughter.”

I couldn't move.

Another daughter.

Mama suddenly grabbed my wrist.

“Isabella, we have to leave. If Richard discovers what Victor knows, none of us will survive.”

Alexander stepped between us.

“No one is taking her anywhere.”

Then Victor's phone rang.

He answered, listened briefly, and turned toward us with terror in his eyes.

“They found us.”

A crash sounded outside.

Victor grabbed my hand.

“Miss Reyes, there's something else Daniel wanted you to know.”

“What?”

He leaned closer, his voice barely audible.

“The woman in that photograph is Alexander's mother.”

End of Chapter 7.