Chapter 1: Seventeen Calls From a Dying Woman
The seventeenth missed call from my pregnant wife appeared on my phone just as my mistress pressed a kiss against my neck.
I looked at Camila's name, laughed, and rejected the call.
Twenty minutes later, while I was celebrating my freedom in a luxury nightclub, the woman carrying my son was fighting for her life on the marble floor of our mansion.
And the man who would save her was the one person I had spent five years trying to destroy.
My name is Mateo Villarreal. At thirty-four, I owned three luxury car dealerships, two commercial properties in Monterrey, and a construction company bearing my family name. I drove a black Mercedes, wore watches that cost more than most people's houses, and believed that money could solve every problem.
I had spent years convincing myself that I was a self-made man.
The truth was less flattering.
My father had left me a fortune, my wife had helped me build a business empire, and my former best friend had saved my company from bankruptcy before I betrayed him.
But those were details I preferred not to remember.
That Friday night, the private room at a club in San Pedro Garza García was filled with music, expensive liquor, and people who laughed at everything I said.
Valeria Montes sat on my lap in a red dress that probably cost more than the monthly salary of one of my dealership managers. Her dark hair brushed my cheek as she reached for the bottle of tequila.
"Another one, baby?"" she asked.
I held out my glass.
"Make it two. Tonight, we're celebrating.""
"Celebrating what?"" asked Diego, one of my business associates.
I raised my glass toward the ceiling.
"My last night of freedom before becoming a father.""
The table erupted in laughter.
Valeria tilted her head.
"You say that like having a baby is a prison sentence.""
"With the way Camila has been acting lately, it might be.""
My phone vibrated against the glass table.
The screen displayed one word.
*Wife.*
Valeria saw it and sighed dramatically.
"Again? That's the tenth time tonight.""
"Eleventh," Diego corrected, glancing at the screen.
"I counted.""
Everyone laughed.
I stared at the phone as it continued vibrating.
For a moment, I pictured Camila at home, probably sitting on our white leather sofa with one hand on her enormous belly, worrying about something insignificant.
She had become like that during the last few months of her pregnancy. She worried about the baby's movements, the temperature in the nursery, the medications her doctor prescribed, and whether I would be home for dinner.
She called when I was working.
She called when I was driving.
She called when I was with clients.
Sometimes, she called simply to ask if I could come home early because she missed me.
I had once found those things endearing.
Now, they irritated me.
"Answer it," Valeria whispered, tracing a finger down my shirt.
"Tell her you're busy.""
"Why should I explain myself to her?""
"Because she's your wife.""
I looked at Valeria.
"And you're the woman I actually want to be with.""
Her smile widened.
I enjoyed the way those words made her eyes sparkle. It made me feel powerful, desirable, and in control.
My phone stopped vibrating.
Three seconds later, it started again.
I snatched it up.
"Camila, what is it?""
My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn't care.
At first, I heard only ragged breathing.
Then a faint, broken whisper.
"Mateo?""
I frowned.
"What?""
"Please... come home.""
Something in her voice was different.
It wasn't the soft, tired tone I had grown accustomed to. She sounded as if she were struggling to push each word through a mouthful of pain.
"What's wrong now?""
"I fell.""
I sat up slightly.
"Fell where?""
"The stairs. Mateo, please. There's blood, and I can't—"
I heard a small, strangled cry.
For one brief second, something cold moved through my chest.
Then Valeria leaned closer.
"Is she crying again?""
I turned away from the table.
"Camila, stop panicking. Call the doctor.""
"I can't get up.""
"Then call an ambulance.""
"The gate..."" Her breath hitched.
"The gate is locked. I can't reach—"
I rubbed my forehead.
"Call security, then.""
"I tried. Mateo, please, the baby isn't moving like before.""
That sentence should have made me stand up.
It should have made me throw my glass against the wall, run out of that club, and drive home as if my life depended on it.
Instead, I looked at the expensive watch on my wrist.
"Camila, I'm busy. I'll call you later.""
"Mateo, no. Please don't hang up. I think something is wrong with our baby.""
Diego had stopped smiling.
Even Valeria looked uncomfortable.
I lowered my voice.
"You're eight months pregnant, not made of glass. Stop frightening yourself over every little thing.""
There was a pause.
Then Camila whispered something that I would remember for the rest of my life.
"I don't want to die alone.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
For the first time that evening, nobody at the table laughed.
I could have gone home.
I could have called an ambulance myself, given the security guard instructions, or contacted our private physician. I had enough money to summon half the city's medical professionals within minutes.
Instead, I chose the easiest thing.
I ended the call.
Valeria stared at me.
"Mateo, that was cruel.""
I gave her a hard look.
"Don't start.""
"I'm just saying—"
"You don't know what it's like living with someone who turns everything into a crisis.""
My phone vibrated again.
Camila.
I rejected the call.
It vibrated once more.
I switched it to airplane mode and tossed it onto the leather couch.
"There," I said.
"Problem solved.""
Diego shifted in his seat.
"Maybe you should check on her tomorrow.""
"Tomorrow, I'll be a father. Tonight, I'm still a man.""
I lifted my glass.
"To freedom.""
The others hesitated, but eventually, they raised their drinks.
Valeria kissed my cheek.
"You're terrible.""
"And yet you adore me.""
"Unfortunately.""
I laughed and pulled her closer.
Outside, the city glittered beneath the night sky. Luxury cars moved along the avenues, restaurants filled with wealthy families, and somewhere in a quiet neighborhood, my pregnant wife lay on the floor of our enormous home.
I didn't know that her phone had slipped from her trembling hand.
I didn't know that blood was spreading across the pale marble beneath her.
I didn't know that she had tried to drag herself toward the security panel and collapsed before reaching it.
And I didn't know that, after my seventeenth rejection, she had called the only man she believed might still care enough to save her.
Alejandro Serrano.
My former best friend.
My worst enemy.
The man I had once sworn would never come near my family again.
At 11:48 p.m., Alejandro answered his phone in the middle of a business dinner.
"Camila?""
Her voice was barely audible.
"Alejandro... please.""
He stood so abruptly that his chair struck the wall behind him.
"Camila, what's happened?""
"I fell down the stairs. There's blood. I can't reach the door.""
"Where's Mateo?""
A weak, broken sound escaped her.
"He won't answer.""
Alejandro went completely still.
Then he grabbed his car keys.
"Listen to me carefully. I'm coming. I'm sending an ambulance and my security team ahead of me. Stay on the phone.""
"The baby...""
"We're going to get you help. Do you hear me? You're not alone.""
He shouted instructions to his assistant while running toward the elevator.
"Call the emergency services. Tell them it's an obstetric emergency. Get Dr.
Reyes out of bed if you have to. And send someone to open the Villarreal estate's gate.""
His assistant hurried after him.
"Mr. Serrano, the Villarreal security team won't let us in without authorization.""
Alejandro stopped beside his car.
His face hardened.
"Then tell them that if they make me wait while a pregnant woman dies behind their gate, I'll personally make sure every one of them answers for it.""
He climbed inside and started the engine.
On the other end of the phone, Camila was no longer speaking.
"Camila?""
Silence.
"Camila, talk to me.""
A faint sound came through the speaker.
Then nothing.
Alejandro slammed his palm against the steering wheel.
"God, no. Stay with me, Camila. Please.""
He pressed the accelerator.
And for the first time in five years, Alejandro Serrano was heading toward the Villarreal mansion with a single purpose.
May you like
To save the woman his former best friend had abandoned.
Even if saving her meant destroying Mateo's entire world.
