CHAPTER 2: THE WOMAN AT THE DOOR

My hand trembled as I looked through the peephole.

Standing outside my apartment was a woman I had only seen in magazines and social media photos.

Camila Montenegro.

Or rather...

Lucía Hernández.

She wasn't alone.

Two large men stood behind her in the hallway.

Neither looked like bodyguards.

They looked like enforcers.

Another knock rattled the door.

"Elena," Camila called sweetly. "I know you're in there."

My blood turned cold.

She knew my name.

She knew where I lived.

And somehow she knew the package had arrived.

Sofía stood behind me clutching Daisy.

"Mami?"

I forced a smile.

"Go to your room, sweetheart."

The moment she disappeared, I quietly dialed 911.

Camila kept talking through the door.

"Alejandro belongs with me. Whatever he sent you is based on misunderstandings."

I stayed silent.

Then her voice changed.

The sweetness vanished.

"If you open that package, people get hurt."

The call connected.

I whispered our address.

Less than two minutes later, the sound of approaching sirens echoed outside.

Camila's face appeared in the peephole one final time.

For the first time, she looked nervous.

Then she turned and hurried away.

The men followed.

By the time officers reached my floor, they were gone.

But that night I didn't sleep.

Instead, I watched every remaining video on the USB.

Each one was worse than the last.

Alejandro had secretly recorded months of footage.

Bank statements.

Hidden accounts.

Fake identities.

Forged passports.

And one horrifying confession.

Camila wasn't after his money.

She was after something much bigger.

A criminal organization had been using wealthy businessmen to launder millions through fake charities.

Alejandro had discovered everything.

And now he was missing.

The final video ended with his exhausted face filling the screen.

"If anything happens to me... protect Sofía."

Then the screen went black.