"Dad, did you think Rosa was a bad person?"
Emiliano put down his fork.
Rosa, from the kitchen, remained still.
He could have lied.
He could have said no.
He could have made up a nice phrase.
But he had already done too much damage with his silence.
"Yes," he answered. "And I was terribly wrong."
Martina looked at him seriously.
"And you're never going to believe anyone else before us?"
Emiliano felt that question was worth more than all his contracts.
"Never again."
Rosa lowered her gaze, but this time it wasn't out of fear.
It was to hide the tears.
Outside, the mansion was still enormous, elegant, full of marble and expensive windows.
But for the first time in a long time, it looked like a house.
And although Emiliano Duarte remained a millionaire, he learned something no business had ever taught him:
Sometimes the enemy doesn't enter through the service entrance.
