“They were trying to protect this family,” my father said, his voice rising slightly. “While you were trying to destroy it.”

Detective Vargas stepped forward, pulling a pair of metal handcuffs from his belt.

“Patricia Lujan, you are under arrest for grand larceny, fraud, and conspiracy,” Vargas said.

Patricia took a step back, her back pressing against the dark wood paneling of the wall.

“This is ridiculous,” she hissed, her eyes darting toward the staircase behind the officers. “You have no proof of anything.”

“We have everything, Patricia,” Ramiro said, holding up a black flash drive. “Every keystroke, every transaction, and every phone call.”

The color drained from Patricia’s face, leaving her skin looking pale and yellow under the hallway lights.

The mask of the loving, elegant fiancée was completely gone now.

In its place was a woman who looked cold, desperate, and trapped.

“Emiliano, you cannot do this to me,” she said, her voice turning sharp and venomous. “Think of the scandal. Think of your reputation.”

“My reputation does not matter,” my father said, looking at her with nothing but pity. “My daughters do.”