The millionaire pretended to travel to Europe… but recordings from the house revealed who was really taking care of his daughters.

"Go to your room," Patricia ordered.

The girls didn't move.

"I said get out."

Rosa crouched down in front of them.

"Come upstairs, my girls. I'll be right there."

The phrase "my girls" hit Emiliano like a ton of bricks.

Not out of jealousy.

But because it felt natural.

Like something earned through nights of fever, homework, fears, and snacks. Things he, between trips and meetings, hadn't been able to give.

Daniela grabbed Martina and they ran upstairs.

Luego caminó hacia Rosa y le habló casi pegada a la cara.

—Te estás metiendo donde no debes.

—Solo cuido a las niñas.

—No. Las estás poniendo contra mí.

Rosa negó con la cabeza.

—Ellas tienen miedo.

Patricia sonrió, pero sus ojos estaban llenos de coraje.

—Pues más miedo vas a tener tú cuando Emiliano vea lo que encontré en tu cuarto.

Emiliano frunció el ceño.