Chapter 6
The housekeeper took one look inside the box and recoiled as though electrocuted, flinging it away. The contents spilled across the polished marble floor with a sickening thud. Inside the festive red gift box sat a smaller, dark crimson urn. Its contents—fine powdery ash mixed with tiny bone fragments—were now scattered across the floor.
Hektor lurched forward, his legs unsteady. With trembling hands, he picked up a small red booklet from among the ashes. His pupils constricted to pinpoints when he realized it was a set of divorce papers bearing his signature.
“What the fuck?” he whispered hoarsely. “I never signed any—” He flipped it open to find a death certificate nestled inside, his mother-in-law’s name printed in stark black letters.
“This—this isn’t real,” he stammered, his voice rising in panic. “It’s impossible! This has to be some sick joke.” When he’d left that day, her head had been only slightly bleeding—a minor injury, nothing life-threatening.
“Yunifer!” he bellowed, whirling toward the stairs. “What kind of sick game are you playing?!” “Get Yunifer down here NOW!” he demanded, his voice cracking as he fixed wild, bloodshot eyes on the housekeeper.
A maid stepped forward hesitantly. “Sir… I—I saw Madam leave with her suitcase about an hour ago.”
“Left?” Hektor’s voice dropped to a horrified whisper. His legs gave way, and he crumpled to the floor among the scattered ashes.
Since Yunifer’s release from prison, no gallery would touch her work, no studio would hire her. He’d made sure of that. He’d given her no access to their accounts. She had nothing. The thought of her out there—alone, broke, desperate—sent a jagged blade of panic through his chest, making it hard to breathe.
The room fell into an eerie silence. Hektor looked utterly destroyed, while the staff stood frozen, afraid to move or speak. Then Laria’s shrill voice shattered the tension.
“Oh, Hektor,” she cooed, dabbing at nonexistent tears. “I’m not even upset about almost being strangled anymore! I came here with nothing but love in my heart to celebrate Yunifer’s birthday, and look how she repays your kindness.”
“Using—what is this, flour?—to fake her mother’s ashes? And forging official documents? That’s beyond disturbed, that’s actually criminal.”
“First driving her father to an early grave, now putting death curses on her own mother? She’s rotten to the core.”
“You’ve been so good to her, Hektor,” she purred, stroking his arm. “If you chase after her now, you’re just rewarding this disgusting behavior!”
She kicked the urn aside contemptuously, then bent to help Hektor up. But the man who had always treated her like a precious jewel suddenly shoved her away with shocking force. His eyes blazed with a fury she’d never seen directed at her.
“SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!” he roared, spittle flying. “Yunifer has NOTHING! No money, no resources. If I don’t find her, she could die out there! Is that what you want?!”
He struggled to his feet, swaying slightly. Laria froze in genuine shock before quickly recovering. Her eyes filled with perfectly timed tears, her lower lip trembling on cue.
“I can’t believe you’re screaming at me because of her,” she whimpered, her voice cracking. “Everything I say, everything I do is because I care about you, Hektor.”
“Sweetie, Yunifer survived being beaten so badly in prison that she coughed blood and lost a kidney. Do you honestly think missing her birthday would drive her to… divorce you?”
“She’s obviously using her mother to manipulate you, to make you feel guilty and responsible…”
Hektor had never heard Laria talk so much or so callously. Strange, revealing words poured from her mouth, and his eyes grew increasingly hostile as he stared at her.