PART 2
The man behind the attempt to remove Renata was named Ernesto Alcázar.
He had been Octavio Salgado’s partner for almost thirty years and vice president of the board.
“He’s not a cartoon villain,” Renata explained to Daniel. “When the company was on the verge of bankruptcy in 2001, he mortgaged his house to pay salaries. He sincerely believes he’s saving what he built with my father.”
The problem was Renata’s project: a network of small satellites to bring internet to rural communities in Mexico where thousands of families still relied on unreliable connections.
Ernesto considered it a multi-million-dollar madness.
And Renata’s illness had given him the perfect argument.
“A seriously ill, emotionally unstable woman with no personal support cannot lead the future of 3,800 employees.”
That was what his allies kept repeating.
“I need you to stop seeing me as a dying woman alone,” Renata said. “And I need someone by my side who doesn’t belong to this world.”
Daniel looked at the contract.
Twelve million pesos.
He could buy a better house for Valentina.
Start a university fund.
Modernize the workshop.
Stop counting coins at the end of each month.
He agreed, on one condition:
—My daughter always comes first. And I’m not going to lie to her.
Renata extended her hand.
—Deal.
Over the following weeks, Daniel went from installing electrical panels to accompanying medical treatments in the morning and corporate meetings in the afternoon.
In public they looked like a couple.
In private they were still two strangers trying to understand why they were starting to know each other too well.
Daniel was there when Renata vomited after a treatment session.
When she started losing her hair.
When she cried silently because she couldn’t climb some stairs by herself.
And also when, hours later, she put on a perfect wig, an impeccable suit, and walked into a meeting as if nothing had happened.
Ernesto Alcázar was watching everything.
Two weeks later he appeared in person outside Daniel’s workshop.
—Nice business—he said, looking at the old sign. —My father also worked with his hands.
Daniel didn’t respond.
Ernesto set a card on a toolbox.
—I know Renata is paying you.
Daniel felt cold.
—I don’t know what you’re talking about.
—I know about the contract. I know where Valentina goes to school. I know how much you owe on this workshop.
Daniel clenched his jaw.
—Don’t mention my daughter again.
Ernesto raised his hands.
—It’s not a threat. It’s an offer.
He took out a piece of paper.
—Thirty million pesos. You quit. Then you publicly declare that Renata hired you to fake a relationship.
Daniel stared at the number.
—You want to destroy her.
—I want to save the company.
That night Daniel ran the numbers until almost 2:00 in the morning.
Thirty million.
More money than he’d earn in his whole life.
For the first time since meeting Renata, he wasn’t sure what he should do.
Then the phone rang.
—Daniel…
It was Renata.
She could barely speak.
—I have a fever… Andrea isn’t answering… I think I’m going to faint.
Then he heard a crash.
Daniel ran.
He found her almost unconscious.
She ended up back in the hospital, doctors surrounding her while the monitors showed a severe infection.
When Renata woke up at dawn, she discovered her headscarf had shifted, revealing part of her bald head.
She turned her face away.
—Don’t look at me.
Daniel pulled the chair closer.
“I’ve spent twenty years repairing wiring after fires. Believe me, I know how to recognize something that still has power.”
Renata cried.
Not from sadness.
From exhaustion.
That afternoon Daniel went back to the workshop, took out Ernesto’s offer, and tore it up.
But seventy-two hours later he woke up to eighteen missed calls.
Photos of him entering Renata’s house in the early hours were circulating online.
Fragments of the contract had surfaced too.
And one headline was everywhere:
“SALGADO HEIRESS PAID MILLIONS FOR A FAKE BOYFRIEND TO FOOL THE BOARD.”
The company’s stock began to fall.
Daniel ran to Renata’s house.
She was sitting in front of the television.
“Anyone could have gotten the photos,” he said.
—Then we can handle it.
Renata looked at him.
—Not the contract.
—What do you mean?
—There are only three copies.
Daniel felt something close inside his chest.
—You have one. My lawyer has another.
Renata paused.
—The third was in my safe.
Daniel understood.
—Who knows the combination?
Renata swallowed.
—Only two people.
And one of them had been sitting next to her for six years.
