Chapter 1
“If you ever open your mouth to your family again, I'll make sure everyone thinks you've lost your mind.”
Tomás Varela didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
He spoke slowly, with the kind of icy calm that frightened Mariana Solís even more than when he yelled.
Mariana sat beside the kitchen island, pressing a cold compress against her side.
From the twelfth-floor apartment, the lights of Andares sparkled below like a postcard.
Inside...
She could barely breathe without feeling a sharp stab of pain.
She had been living like this for almost two years.
To everyone else, Tomás was a successful man.
He claimed to be the regional director of a transportation company in El Salto, arrived at family gatherings with expensive gifts, and treated Mariana as though she were the luckiest woman in Guadalajara.
At home...
He was someone completely different.
He searched through her phone.
He decided what she was allowed to wear.
He controlled her bank cards.
He became angry if she spent more than twenty minutes at the grocery store.
First, he isolated her from her friends.
Then he convinced her to quit her job in finance because, according to him, “a real wife supports her husband's career.”
After that came the insults.
Then...
The first slap.
And finally, the apologies, the flowers, and the familiar promises:
“You made me do it.”
“It'll never happen again.”
“Without me, you're nothing.”
The latest assault had started over something completely trivial.
Mariana bought a different brand of coffee because it was on sale.
Tomás shoved her against the granite countertop and squeezed her arms so hard that dark bruises formed beneath his fingers.
The next day, even though it was 31°C (88°F) outside, she wore a long-sleeved blouse.
That morning, her mother, Doña Elvira, called.
“Your Uncle Julián is arriving on Friday. After fourteen years working on industrial projects overseas, he's finally coming home for good.”
Mariana closed her eyes.
Julián was the one who had taught her to swim in the reservoir near Tapalpa.
The one who took her out for ice cream whenever she earned good grades.
The one who always told her:
“No one has the right to humiliate you—not even in the name of love.”
Two days later, Mariana stopped by her parents' house to deliver some paperwork.
As she removed her sweater, one sleeve slipped down...
Revealing the unmistakable imprint of four fingers wrapped around her wrist.
Doña Elvira didn't ask whether she had fallen.
She simply asked:
“How long has he been doing this to you?”
Mariana tried to deny it.
But her voice broke.
She confessed everything.
The shoving.
The emergency cash she secretly hid inside an oatmeal container.
The threats.
And her fear that Tomás would find her if she ever tried to leave.
Her mother wept silently.
“You're not alone anymore, sweetheart.”
On Friday, at Guadalajara International Airport, Julián hugged his niece.
As he did...
He noticed a bruise beneath the edge of her sleeve.
He didn't make a scene.
He simply studied the mark with the careful attention of an engineer discovering a crack in a building's foundation.
That evening, he insisted on accompanying Mariana back to her apartment.
Tomás welcomed them with a flawless smile, a bottle of whiskey, and an impressive speech about multimillion-dollar contracts.
But when Julián casually asked him about shipping routes, profit margins, and major clients...
Tomás mixed up the most basic figures.
The moment Tomás stepped into the kitchen to answer a phone call...
Julián leaned toward his niece.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you're safe.”
Fear tightened around Mariana's throat.
“I'm fine, Uncle.”
Julián held her gaze.
“I'll pretend I believe you...”
“Just for tonight.”
A few minutes later...
As soon as Julián walked out the door...
Tomás locked it behind him.
The smile disappeared from his face.
He slowly turned toward Mariana.
May you like
“Now then...” he said.
“You're going to tell me exactly what the hell you told him.”
