Chapter 2

The storage room never saw sunlight, and its corners stayed damp year-round.

I sat on the narrow bed, listening to the thuds from next door. The bodyguards were carrying my mother's loom, old wooden cabinets, and the boxes of cassette tapes out one by one, dumping them carelessly in the dirt. Dario stood in the courtyard directing them, reminding them only to keep it down so they wouldn't disturb Sofia's rest.

He didn't spare a single glance at the things that had kept him company through his lowest years.

The next morning, I had just finished zipping Nico into his jacket when three black cars pulled up outside the courtyard. Several men and women in dark suits came in carrying briefcases, and Dario led them straight into the room.

"Mira, this is the Vega family's legal team."

He sat down in the only chair in the room, legs crossed, looking as relaxed as if he were in his own office.

Sofia came in behind him with a cup of warm milk. She studied Nico, then sighed. "He really does look like Dario. It's a shame he's never been formally acknowledged as a Vega. When it comes to school and inheritance, people are bound to talk."

Nico didn't understand any of it. He simply burrowed deeper into my arms on instinct.

Dario took Sofia's hand, his eyes warm. "You're always thinking of others."

Then he turned to me, his voice suddenly all business. "I'm arranging a paternity test and filing for joint custody. Once Nico comes back to Madrid with us, Sofia will care for him as his stepmother. If it becomes necessary, she's even willing to pursue a stepparent adoption so he can be publicly recognized as a Vega."

My fingers froze mid-button on Nico's jacket.

Nico threw his arms around my neck. "Mommy, I don't want to go to Madrid. I want to stay with Mommy."

Dario frowned, his voice suddenly sharp. "Nico, stop it. Sofia is going to be part of your family now. You need to learn to respect her."

The child burst into tears.

I pulled Nico against me. "Dario, what gives you the right to show up and take my son? For four years, I was the one who rushed him to the hospital in the middle of the night, took him to preschool, and paid every bill. You wouldn't even put your name on his birth certificate. Now you want your new wife to become his mother?"

One of the lawyers adjusted his glasses. "Ms. Montoya, being the child's mother does not automatically settle the question of his best interests. Mr. Vega has a stable income, a more secure home, and access to better schools. You currently run a small family inn and a co-op with inconsistent revenue. If this goes to court, the judge will consider all of those factors."

They dressed every threat in polished legal language, but each word still landed like a stone on my shoulders.

I turned to the final page of the agreement and found an even uglier clause: if I ever spoke publicly about my relationship with Dario, the Vega family could cut off all compensation and petition to restrict my contact with Nico for "compromising a minor's privacy."

They didn't just want to take my child. They wanted to use the law to turn my seven years into a scandal that should never be spoken of.

Dario noticed me staring at that page and actually softened his voice. "Once you sign, it'll be easier for everyone. You won't have to deal with the Madrid press, and Nico won't be hounded with questions about who his mother is. Mira, I'm protecting you."

I looked up at him.

If someone truly wanted to protect you, he wouldn't start by taking away your right to speak.

Another lawyer slid a so-called "family placement plan" toward me. It said Nico would attend a bilingual private school in Madrid, take the Vega surname, and appear with Dario and Sofia at public events during the holidays. I would be limited to two supervised visits a month at a designated location and barred from speaking to the media about Nico's birth or my relationship with Dario.

This was not planning a child's future.

Nico's birth certificate, vaccination records, preschool pickup forms, and medical receipts all listed me alone. Dario would appear now and then with an expensive toy car or a new pair of shoes and decide he'd done his duty as a father.

But he had never remembered that Nico couldn't lie flat when he coughed at night. He didn't know the boy was afraid of thunder. And he certainly didn't know that what Nico wanted most wasn't the Vega name, but to see me when he woke up in the morning.

This was about erasing me from Nico's life and writing my silence into a contract.

Dario stood and came toward me. "Mira, I'm not taking Nico away forever. I'm giving him a better future. Stay here, and you'll still be able to see him. I'll send you money every month, and I can renovate the inn for you. Sofia is willing to take your son in. You should be grateful for her generosity."

Sofia stepped forward and leaned against his shoulder, her voice fragile. "I'll treat Nico as my own. Once my baby is born, they can grow up together. Mira, please don't let your feelings about me hold back his future."

Seven years of love, four years of raising a child, and in their mouths it had all become a transaction that could be settled with money.

I drew a slow breath and forced the fury out of my voice. "This is all very sudden. I need time to think."

When I didn't argue, Dario visibly relaxed. He patted my shoulder. "That's the Mira I know. You've always known how to be reasonable. I'll give you three days. I want the agreement signed by then."

Sofia suddenly clutched her belly. "Dario, I'm feeling nauseous. I want the honey cake from that shop in town."

He was at her side in an instant. "I'll drive there right now."

Without a second thought, he left the still-crying Nico behind and walked off with Sofia.

After the car pulled out of the courtyard, I bent down and kissed the top of Nico's hair. "Don't be scared. Mommy won't let anyone take you away."

My phone screen lit up. A message from Mateo.

"I found what you asked me to look into. Don't sign anything, and don't go anywhere alone with them. I'm requesting police protection now."

I replied, "Okay."