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008: The Blackmail

Autor: Monday Luisa
last update Fecha de publicación: 2025-11-29 14:37:45

~Elena’s POV~

I’m out of Mateo’s apartment before he can stop me, phone gripped tight in my hand, Rebecca’s blackmail photos burning in my mind.

“Elena, wait…” He’s behind me, grabbing keys, following me down the stairs.

“I’m handling this.”

“By doing what? Confronting her at two in the morning?”

“Yes.” I hit the street, scan for a taxi. The street is empty. I start walking toward the main avenue.

Mateo catches up, grabs my arm. “You’re not thinking clearly…”

“I’m thinking perfectly clearly.” I
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  • The Professor’s Canvas    Chapter 45: Manipulation

    The video continues. It shows my father explaining that Marina is dangerous, that having a defense plan isn’t the same as plotting murder.“Isabella edited it,” I breathe. “She cut out the context.”“She manipulated the footage to make it look like premeditated murder when it was actually your father preparing your mother for possible self-defense.” Ana puts her phone away. “I have the full video. The metadata proving when it was recorded and when it was edited. Everything we need to prove Isabella fabricated evidence.”“So my mother is safe.”“If we release this before the wedding, yes. Isabella’s leverage disappears.”I look at Patricia. “Then why haven’t you released it already?”“Because we need Mateo’s cooperation. And he won’t break the engagement unless he knows you’re here. Unless he knows you still want him.” Patricia meets my eyes. “He thinks you moved on, that you chose MIT over him. He’s going through with the wedding because he believes there’s nothing left to fight for.”

  • The Professor’s Canvas    Chapter 44: Discovery

    Richard’s apartment is nice. Modern and impersonal.We barely make it through the door before he’s kissing me. It’s fine. Technically competent. Completely empty.I kiss him back anyway. Try to lose myself in someone who isn’t Mateo.His hands are under my shirt when my phone rings.I ignore it.It rings again. And again.“You should get that,” Richard says.I check the screen. Patricia.“I need to take this.” I step into his hallway. “What?”“Elena. Where are you?”“Boston. Why?”“You need to see this. I’m sending a link.”My phone buzzes. Article link from The Guardian.Headline: *SANDOVAL HEIR’S SECRET: FIANCÉE UNAWARE OF COERCED ENGAGEMENT*I scan the article. Someone leaked everything. The medical incompetence angle, Isabella’s threats, the coerced contracts, everything.“Who gave them this?” I ask.“I don’t know, but it was published twenty minutes ago and it’s everywhere. Twitter. Reddit. Every major news outlet is picking it up.”“What does this mean for Mateo?”“It means the

  • The Professor’s Canvas    Chapter 43: Boston

    I destroyed my MIT lab on day three.Not intentionally. I’m running a quantum resonance test, miscalculate the electromagnetic interference, and the entire array overloads. Sparks. Smoke. Alarms screaming.My advisor, Dr. Chen, finds me in the wreckage. “Miss Vega. My office. Now.”I follow her through the physics building, still smelling like burnt circuits.She closes her office door. “You’ve been here two weeks. In that time, you’ve produced brilliant preliminary work and nearly burned down a fifty-million-dollar lab. What’s going on?”“Personal issues. They won’t interfere again…”“They’re interfering now.” She sits. “I recruited you because your research is exceptional. But I need your head in the game. Whatever is happening in your personal life, fix it or compartmentalize it. You have one week to prove you can handle this program.”One week. Mateo’s wedding is in four days.“I understand.”Back at the apartment Sofia found us, small, expensive, walking distance from campus—I tr

  • The Professor’s Canvas    042: The Flight

    I’m at gate B17 when I see his face on the departure lounge television.Mateo. In a suit I’ve never seen. Standing beside a woman who’s all polish and poise and everything I’m not.The chyron reads: *SANDOVAL HEIR ANNOUNCES ENGAGEMENT TO TELECOMMUNICATIONS HEIRESS*Sofia grabs my arm. “Don’t look. It’s probably old news—”“Three days ago.” The timestamp on the screen. Three days after he left the hospital. Four days after he held me in his bed and promised we’d figure this out together.The reporter’s voice carries across the gate area: “In a surprise announcement, Mateo Sandoval, newly appointed CEO of Sandoval Holdings, has confirmed his engagement to Victoria Ruiz, daughter of telecommunications magnate—”I turn away. Can’t watch.“Boarding for flight BA213 to Boston Logan will begin in ten minutes.”My phone buzzes. Text from my mother: *Did you see the news? Good. Now you can move on properly.*Another buzz. Carmen: *I’m sorry. Isabella works fast.*I silence my phone. Board the

  • The Professor’s Canvas    41:

    I open my laptop. Pull up the MIT acceptance form. Cursor hovering over submit.Sofia appears with food. “Eat first. Then decide.”“I’ve already decided.”“Then eat to celebrate. Or eat to grieve. But eat.”I eat mechanically while Sofia packs my books. My research. My life into boxes.At 11:30 PM, I hit submit on the MIT form.Confirmation email arrives instantly. *Welcome to MIT. We look forward to your arrival Monday, January 6th.*Three weeks. I have three weeks to pack up four years in Barcelona. Say goodbye to everything.“Done?” Sofia asks.“Done.”“Good. Now you can actually rest.”But I can’t rest. Can’t sleep. I lie awake thinking about Mateo in his hospital bed. About my father in his grave. About the person I was four months ago who thought she had everything figured out.At 2 AM, my phone buzzes.Text from Mateo: *I lied.*I stare at the screen.Another text: *I don’t want this to be over.*My heart pounds.Another: *I know you accepted MIT. Isabella told me. And I know y

  • The Professor’s Canvas    40: The Truth

    I spend seventy-two hours at Mateo’s bedside while he stays comatose.Sofia brings me changes of clothes. My mother calls twice, says nothing useful both times. Isabella sends flowers with a card: *Fighting for him in every way I can.*The MIT offer ticks down. Forty-eight hours becomes twenty-four. Becomes twelve.“You need to decide,” Sofia says on the third morning. “The deadline is tonight.”“I can’t decide until he wakes up.”“What if he doesn’t wake up before midnight?”“Then I decide without him.”“And if he wakes up but doesn’t remember you?”I don’t answer because I don’t know.The doctor reduces his sedation at noon. Says he should wake within hours if he’s going to wake at all.I hold his hand and wait.At 3 PM, his fingers twitch.At 4 PM, his eyes flutter.At 4:37 PM, they open.“Mateo.” I’m leaning over him instantly. “Can you hear me?”His eyes track to my face. Confused. Searching.“Do you know who I am?” The question costs me everything.He blinks slowly. His mouth mo

  • The Professor’s Canvas    035: The Decision

    ~Elena’s POV~I drop the phone.Marina raises the gun higher. “Pick it up, slowly.”“You’ve been working with my father this whole time? The lawsuit, the surveillance, all of it.”“Your father approached me two years ago, after Mateo’s divorce. Antonio knew Mateo’s pattern, knew the Sandoval family

  • The Professor’s Canvas    034: Partners

    I read Mateo’s words with shaking hands.*I attempted to maintain appropriate boundaries with Miss Vega after discovering she was my student. She pursued contact repeatedly. Appeared at my office uninvited. Initiated physical encounters despite my verbal objections. I take responsibility for not re

  • The Professor’s Canvas    033: The Meeting

    I’m at the police station in forty minutes.Marina meets me at the entrance, briefcase in her hand, expression grim. “Don’t say anything, not one word. They’re building a conspiracy case and every syllable will be used against you.”“There’s hotel footage. From the night I met Mateo. My father had

  • The Professor’s Canvas    032: Betrayed

    ~Elena’s POV~My chest tightens. “What?”“It’s exile essentially but it clears my name. Let me start over somewhere else. London, maybe. Or New York.”“And if you don’t take it?”“Then I fight the charges. Probably go to prison for conspiracy I didn’t commit. Evidence is circumstantial but damning…

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