She’d seen the ad for a maid at his mansion but was terrified.
Sitting on that bench, she cried, unsure she was good enough. During his morning run, Alejandro had stopped and asked if she was okay. She said she was Galician, looking for work and afraid. He had offered a handkerchief and told her that courage isn’t the absence of fear but acting despite it. Then he asked if she wanted him to accompany her to the interview and said he’d put in a good word with her boss. She hadn’t known he was that boss.
The memory returned: the Galician girl in tears, his impulse to help. Carmen said she fell in love that day—with the kind man who helped a stranger. But once she started at the mansion, she saw he had changed: colder, distant, focused on money.
During the week of feigned paralysis, she saw again the man she’d loved three years before—vulnerable, human, capable of real conversation. That was why discovering the lie hurt even more. Alejandro rose from the bench and knelt before her on the damp grass.
He vowed never to lie again, to treat her like the queen she was, to love and respect her every day of his life.
If she would give him a chance, he would spend the rest of his days proving she deserved all the love in the world. Carmen looked at the powerful man kneeling for love and felt the wall of pain begin to crumble.
She told him to stand—people were watching. He said he didn’t care what they thought; he cared only about her. She reached out and helped him up. When their hands touched, the old spark returned. Carmen gave him one chance, just one. At the first lie, it would be over forever.
Alejandro took her hands, his gaze so intent it quickened her heart. One chance was all he asked—and he would use it to prove that true love existed and that no one deserved it more than she did. They kissed in the Sabatini Gardens, where they’d first met, as the November sun cast everything in gold.
For the first time, Alejandro understood that true wealth isn’t money or property, but the capacity to love and be loved authentically.
