All he learned was that she had withdrawn her full savings: €25,000 from three years of work.
On the fifth day, a chilling call came: Isabela was back from Milan, surprised to see him walking. He had completely forgotten her. The woman for whom he had staged the drama now felt irrelevant.
When she chirped about going to Marbella as planned, without even asking how his “week of paralysis” had been, Alejandro finally grasped the extent of her superficiality. He ended it immediately. Alone that night in the vast mansion, he had an idea.
If he couldn’t find Carmen, perhaps he could find her sister, Lucía, now studying medicine in Santiago. Using his influence, he queried Galician universities. Two days later, he identified Lucía López, twenty-five, a fifth-year at the University of Santiago, specializing in pediatric cardiothoracic surgery.
He took his jet to Santiago without hesitation and found Lucía in the library, bent over cardiac anatomy. The resemblance to Carmen was clear—same dark eyes, delicate features. When he introduced himself as Carmen’s former employer, Lucía’s face hardened.
She said Carmen wasn’t angry, she was devastated. She had cried for three days upon arriving in Santiago. She had told Lucía everything—how he deceived and used her in his cruel game. Alejandro pleaded for Carmen’s whereabouts, saying he loved her. Lucía laughed bitterly.
