Chapter 4 - The Trap Behind the Affair
By noon, Rafael had assembled a private legal team.
Not the company lawyers.
Independent counsel.
People Leonor could not influence.
We met in a small conference room two floors below the chairman’s office.
No assistants.
No phones except one encrypted recorder.
Emiliano sat across from me.
Technically, he was helping.
Emotionally, I could barely look at him.
That was the strangest part of betrayal.
A person could become useful before they became forgivable.
Our attorney, Elena Prado, reviewed the emails.
“This is serious.”
“How serious?” I asked.
She looked at the restructuring document.
“If authentic, it suggests coordinated efforts to manipulate shareholder control by engineering a reputational event.”
Rafael leaned back.
“Can we remove Leonor from advisory access?”
“Yes.”
“Immediately?”
“Yes.”
I looked toward Emiliano.
“And him?”
Elena paused.
“His situation is different.”
“Because of the affair?”
“Because of the expenses and conflict disclosures.”
Emiliano nodded.
“I understand.”
That was the first mature sentence I had heard from him in twenty-four hours.
Elena continued.
“We should preserve records before anyone knows how much we have.”
Rafael agreed.
I thought of Camila.
“Where is she?”
“Administrative leave,” Rafael said.
“She hasn’t responded to HR.”
“Find her.”
Elena looked at me.
“Mariana, do not contact her personally.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
But she contacted me.
At 1:07 p.m.
Unknown number.
This time, a voice message.
I played it on speaker.
Camila sounded nothing like the woman who had walked into the boardroom in red.
“Mariana, I need to talk to you. Alone. Please. There are things you don’t understand.”
Emiliano closed his eyes.
I looked at Elena.
“Can I answer?”
“With counsel present.”
I called.
Camila answered immediately.
“Mariana?”
“You wanted to talk.”
“Yes.”
“Talk.”
A pause.
“Not on the phone.”
“Then no.”
“Please.”
Her voice cracked.
“I made a mistake.”
I laughed softly.
“That is an ambitious understatement.”
“I know.”
“No, Camila. You knew what you were doing.”
“I knew part of it.”
The room went silent.
“What does that mean?”
Another pause.
“Leonor asked me to send the video.”
Emiliano stood.
I raised a hand.
He stopped.
“Why?”
“She said you needed to understand your marriage was over.”
“And you believed her?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
Camila continued.
“I wanted you hurt.”
At least she was finally telling the truth.
“Why?”
“Because Emiliano kept saying he would leave you.”
I looked at him.
He lowered his eyes.
“And when he didn’t?”
“I became angry.”
“So you agreed to humiliate me.”
“Yes.”
“Then what didn’t you know?”
Her breathing became uneven.
“I didn’t know about the shareholder plan.”
Rafael leaned closer to the phone.
“When did you learn?”
Camila recognized his voice.
“Rafael?”
“Answer.”
“This morning.”
“How?”
“My brother called me.”
The room changed.
“Your brother owns Soria Strategic Media,” Elena said.
Camila hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
Rafael frowned.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“He left Mexico last night.”
That was not good.
“Where?”
“Miami, I think.”
Elena began writing.
Camila continued.
“He told me to destroy my laptop.”
Rafael and I exchanged looks.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I finally understood I was being used.”
I stared at the phone.
“You were happy to use me.”
“Yes.”
Her answer was so direct that it stopped me.
“I’m sorry.”
I didn’t respond.
Apologies were too small now.
“Where is the laptop?”
“With me.”
Elena leaned forward.
“Do not modify anything. Do not delete anything.”
Camila laughed bitterly.
“I’m not stupid.”
I nearly answered but decided not to.
“Come to the office,” Rafael said.
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t trust anyone there.”
“Then choose a neutral place.”
Camila hesitated.
“Hotel Marquis. Lobby. Four o’clock.”
Elena shook her head at us but whispered:
“Public place is acceptable.”
I agreed.
At 3:55, I walked into the hotel lobby with Elena and a forensic consultant.
Emiliano remained at the office.
I insisted.
There were limits to how much humiliation I was willing to endure in one room.
Camila sat near the windows.
No red dress.
No perfect makeup.
Jeans.
Gray sweater.
Hair pulled back.
She looked younger.
And much more frightened.
A laptop bag sat beside her.
She stood when I approached.
“Mariana.”
I remained standing.
“Sit.”
We did.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she pushed the laptop bag toward Elena.
“Everything is there.”
Elena handed it to the consultant.
I looked at Camila.
“Why send me the video?”
Her eyes filled.
“I already told you.”
“No. You told me Leonor asked you. I want to know why you agreed.”
She looked out the window.
“Because I hated being hidden.”
I felt anger rise.
“So you punished me for his lies.”
“Yes.”
“At least you understand that.”
“I do now.”
“Convenient.”
She accepted the insult.
Then she looked directly at me.
“I also thought you were weak.”
There it was.
The truth shared by everyone around me.
She continued.
“Everyone talked about you like you were… decoration.”
Elena shifted uncomfortably.
I didn’t.
“Everyone?”
“Leonor. Some executives. Emiliano sometimes.”
That hurt.
More than I expected.
“What did he say?”
Camila looked ashamed.
“That you didn’t care about business.”
I waited.
“That you preferred being comfortable.”
My chest tightened.
“And?”
“That you would never challenge him.”
I looked at the marble floor.
He had built his affair partly on a fictional version of me.
A weak wife.
A passive wife.
A woman too comfortable to notice.
Camila whispered:
“I believed him.”
I met her eyes.
“That was your mistake.”
“Yes.”
The consultant opened her laptop.
After several minutes, his expression changed.
“Elena.”
He turned the screen.
Email archives.
Hundreds.
Some deleted but recoverable.
One folder was labeled PRIVATE.
Inside were communications between Leonor, Camila’s brother Mateo, two consultants, and a board adviser.
The plan had been developing for months.
Not simply to embarrass me.
To provoke me into publicly attacking Emiliano, then use the scandal to portray me as unstable and irresponsible.
Afterward, they intended to propose “temporary voting protections” that would limit my influence.
That influence would shift into a trust controlled by—
I stared at the name.
Leonor Vargas.
My mother-in-law.
Camila covered her mouth.
“I didn’t know.”
Elena looked at her.
“You participated in part.”
“I know.”
“You may face consequences.”
“I know.”
For the first time, she didn’t argue.
The consultant opened another email.
Then froze.
“Wait.”
“What?” I asked.
He zoomed in.
An invoice.
A large payment.
$480,000.
The one Emiliano had refused.
But someone else had approved it.
Electronic signature.
M. ARMENTA.
I frowned.
“That’s mine.”
Elena looked at me.
“Did you sign this?”
“No.”
The room became silent.
Someone had used my authorization credentials.
My identity.
To approve nearly half a million dollars.
Camila whispered:
“Oh God.”
Elena immediately called Rafael.
The forensic consultant began tracing the authorization.
Then he looked up.
“The approval originated inside Grupo Armenta.”
“Which terminal?”
He typed.
Waited.
Then his face changed.
“Executive floor.”
“Whose office?”
He stared at the screen.
May you like
“Emiliano Vargas.”
My heart stopped.
