Todos los capítulos de UNFAITHFUL UNTILL THE END : Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

(Daniel’s POV)The next day, I dressed like every other normal morning, but nothing about me was normal anymore. Not my thoughts, not my movements, not even the way I looked at my own reflection. I adjusted my tie slowly, staring into the mirror longer than usual. My eyes looked different—sharper, heavier… watchful, like a man who had seen something he wasn’t supposed to see, or worse… a man who had been seen.I grabbed my keys and stepped out of the house, locking the door behind me with a quiet awareness I hadn’t felt before. Every sound mattered now. Every movement had meaning. As I drove toward the office, my mind replayed everything that had happened over the past few days—Patrick’s death, his wife’s strange behavior, Benson’s visits, Lucas’ silence. Too many loose ends, too many secrets, and somehow all of them seemed connected.When I got to the office, I forced myself into routine. Paperwork, reports, conversations with colleagues. There was an urgent case waiting on my desk,

Chapter 63: The Witness(Daniel’s POV)I arrived at the spot early. It was the same place Alex and I had used before—quiet, slightly hidden, and far enough from unnecessary attention. A place that felt neutral… safe enough for conversations that shouldn’t be overheard.I checked my watch. Too early. Good. I preferred it that way.I stood still for a moment, scanning the surroundings out of habit. Nothing unusual. No movement that raised suspicion. Just the steady calm of a location that had become familiar over time.I exhaled slowly and took a seat. Waiting wasn’t new to me. In fact, in situations like this, waiting was part of the process. It gave room to observe, to think, to prepare mentally for whatever was coming next.Minutes passed. Then more.My mind replayed Alex’s words from the phone call. There was something different in his tone—something urgent, something that suggested what he had found wasn’t ordinary.“Something you need to see with your own eyes…”That line stayed w

(Daniel’s POV)After everything, I knew we had crossed a line. The patterns, the surveillance, the risks that followed every step forward meant this was no longer just an investigation. It was exposure, and Alex needed to see how far it had gone.He was the one who found the truck driver. The one who brought him in. Without that, none of this would have moved. This meeting was not casual. It was alignment.I asked him to meet me at our usual place, the same quiet location we had used for years. No distractions. No unnecessary presence. A place where decisions were made and carried out.I arrived first, not out of habit, but to organize the flow in my head. Because once I began speaking, everything would begin to move.A few minutes later, Alex walked in. Calm and focused. He took his seat across from me. “No updates over the phone,” he said. “So I assume it is solid.”“It is,” I replied. That was enough. No extra questions. No wasted time.I leaned forward slightly. “The driver confir

(Daniel’s POV)The room felt heavy, almost suffocating. Every shadow seemed to lean closer, every silence thickened with unspoken truths. Arianna sat frozen, her eyes fixed on me, trying to absorb what she had just heard. Her hands rested lightly on the edge of the table, but they weren’t steady. She was caught between disbelief and the need to understand.“No…” she whispered. “You said… you have evidence.” Her voice trembled slightly, though her back remained straight.I nodded slowly, careful. “I do.”I slid the documents toward her: financial records, witness statements, each paper a puzzle piece meticulously placed, waiting for her to see the full picture.“This is your father’s company account,” I said, voice steady but low. Her eyes moved over the numbers and signatures.“Yes…” she murmured. “But the signature… this isn’t my father’s. Then whose is it?”“Patrick,” I said. “Your father’s brother. His business partner.”“…Uncle Patrick?” she whispered, a mixture of recognition and

(Daniel’s POV)By the time morning settled in, my direction was already clear.Benson remained a priority. His movements, his presence at Patrick’s house, the timing—it all pointed toward involvement. But experience had taught me something simple and unchanging:The obvious path is rarely the only one.And sometimes… not even the most important.There was another angle. Quieter. Less guarded.Someone who had been close enough to witness what others overlooked.Patrick’s housemaid.People like her were often invisible in households like his. Present, but unnoticed. Trusted, but rarely questioned. They moved through rooms, through conversations, through moments that others assumed went unseen.But invisibility came with a cost.And sometimes… it came with truth.⸻Finding her wasn’t straightforward.There were no official records I could rely on. No documented address tied neatly to her name. People like her existed in fragments—mentioned in passing, remembered casually, rarely recorded