"Ernesto? What are you doing here?" Camila exclaimed, stepping back.Ernesto's face practically fell. "What are you doing here?""This is my aunt's house."Ernesto frowned. "What—""Do I know you?" Jose's voice cut in, sharp and immediate, as he emerged from behind Camila, placing a hand on the wall right behind her, subtly blocking her path.His eyes locked on Ernesto. "What do you want?"Ernesto's gaze darted from Jose to Camila. He didn't reply immediately, and Camila could see the gears turning in his head, as if he hadn't thought this through before ringing the bell.Did he actually think Julie was single? A widow? Divorce even?And why was he even here? Isn't he supposed to go find Alberto?"Sorry, I think I got the wrong address," he said, turning, but before he could take a step, Camila blurted out,"You came here looking for Julie, right?"He stopped dead in his tracks.Camila smirked. This should be good. Let's see how you talk your way out of this one.Meanwhile, Jose just
The aroma of garlic and herbs hit Camila the moment Jose opened the door. It wasn't the heavy, opulent scent she associated with Julie's lavish dinners, but something simpler, more… domestic.Jose, for his part, looked surprisingly relaxed in a casual polo shirt. The dining room was indeed softened by a few hastily arranged bouquets of white lilies – clearly the "decorations" he'd mentioned.And it looks like it's not enough."Nice color combination. I guessed you'd buy the right ones," he said as he took the bouquet from her."Come on in," he gestured, a slight smile on his face."Dinner's almost ready. I hope you're hungry."Camila stepped inside, but strangely she didn't feel uneasy. She kinda felt like home. That was as long as Diane and Julie were not home."Which of my favorites did you cook?" she asked, the words out before she could stop them. "Cause it would be a shame to cook all that for someone who'll barely touch it."Jose chuckled. "You're sharp-tongued, just like your d
Camila tossed her pen onto the conference table, leaning back in her chair with a relieved sigh."Alright, team," she announced, "that wraps up the Q3 marketing deep dive. Great ideas all around. Let's get those campaigns drafted by the end of next week."Her marketing director, Flores, gave her a thumbs-up, already tapping on her laptop. The rest of the department started gathering their notes, the hum of their excited chatter filling the room.Camila pushed her chair back, stretching her arms above her head. It was good to get that out of the way.Her office was just a few steps down the hall. She headed towards it, pulling out her phone to check for any texts or missed calls from Antonio, Abuelo—some good news, anything.But an unknown number flashed on the screen.She paused, frowning slightly. Probably a telemarketer, but sometimes it was a new supplier or a press inquiry. She decided to risk it."Hello?" she answered, her tone a mix of professional curiosity and mild annoyance
THE NEXT MORNING Camila woke up to an empty bed. That silence hit differently, far heavier than usual. Antonio's mood changed after their conversation last night. He seemed better, lighter, more determined. But he didn't really mention what his plans were for the next day or his course of action. Now, seeing that he had left just like that, without a note, a kiss, or even a text, made her stomach churn. Camila quickly grabbed her phone and called him. It just rang and rang, then went to voicemail. Seriously? He never misses a call. What is he up to? She slid off the blankets and headed downstairs. Abuelo was silent on the couch, scrolling on his phone. Detached. Like yesterday's panic had disappeared without a trace. Camila crossed her arms. "It seems the De La Cruz has a plan, right?" Abuelo glanced upstairs, averted his gaze, and pointed to the dining table. "Good morning to you too. Breakfast's over there," he mumbled. "Where's Antonio? Did you see him leave?
Antonio was pacing up and down in the living room, fist clenching and unclenching, sometimes raised as though he wanted to hit something—anything to soothe his frustration.Camila had settled on the couch right beside Abuelo's wheelchair; his feet kept tapping onto the floor like it could somehow summon Alberto from wherever he was.And then there's Ernesto. On the phone, yelling, tie askew, jacket sprawled on the couch, his hair a mess as he had run a hand through it a few times.Ernesto slammed his fist on the table. "I don't give a fuck if you think it's 'too early' or 'overreacting,' Mateo. Mija is GONE! They reported him missing to the police, and guess what? The police are doing jack shit! 'Just a routine disappearance,' they said. ROUTINE?! Alberto doesn't just disappear! He's not some kid who ran off because he's grounded! And a search party? You think I haven't thought of that? We've called everyone, every friend, every place he might be! Nothing! You expect me to sit here
Camila stood there, fuming as Ernesto's car peeled out. The mocking salute was a clear challenge. He wasn't just avoiding her; he was daring her to dig deeper.Antonio's gross comment about his dad "taking Julie for a ride" now made sick sense, showing just how messed up Ernesto really was.Even Julie, as cold as she was, had truly freaked out.The last few guests were heading for their cars while she was heading back to the studio. But she couldn't shake the thought off—Julie flee Ernesto's desperation or catch her. It was like a black hole sucking her in.She pulled out her phone. Finding out about Ernesto wouldn't be easy. He was clearly a man with serious secrets. But Camila wasn't playing nice. She needed to find someone who was ready for him, someone who could find all his dirty laundry. And she knew just the kind of folks who traded in secrets for a price. At least, she knew who knew.This wasn't going to be a simple walk down memory lane; she was about to dive headfirst into t