He had spent the early hours of the morning on the phone with his lawyers, ensuring that every legal loop Patricia had tried to create was dismantled.

He had also initiated the process of removing her name from every document associated with the Duarte estate.

“I have spoken to the board of directors,” my father said, setting his coffee cup down.

“I am taking a leave of absence from the company,” he announced quietly, looking at Martina and me.

I looked up from my plate, surprised. “For how long?”

“As long as it takes,” my father said. “The business can run without me. My family cannot.”

He reached across the table and placed his hand over mine, then over Martina’s.

“We are going to sell this house,” he said.

Martina gasped slightly, looking around the massive room with its high ceilings and gilded moldings.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“This house has too many shadows,” my father said, a faint smile appearing on his face.

“It was a monument to my success, but it was never really a home for us after your mother passed.”