Chapter 2 - The Recital of Lies
🔴 TRENDING: "The Devil Sits in the Front Row, Wearing a Saint’s Smile. Watch What Happens Next..."The Zapopan Cultural Center was magnificent. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm, golden glow over the wealthy elite of Jalisco. Men in tailored suits and women in designer gowns chatted amiably, sipping champagne.
At the center of it all stood Armando Arriaga.
He was a tall, imposing man in his late sixties, with a thick mane of silver hair and a sharp, commanding gaze. He was surrounded by local politicians, judges, and business moguls. He laughed heartily, patting a local senator on the back. To everyone in this room, Armando was a savior—a philanthropist who funded orphanages and protected the innocent.
Diego watched him from across the lobby. His stomach churned with a violent, toxic nausea.
"Diego! Karla! Over here!" Armando’s booming voice cut through the chatter. He waved them over, a wide, paternal smile on his face.
Karla immediately glided toward him, her face lighting up with adoration. "Armando! You made it! We were so worried you’d be late."
"I would never miss my beautiful granddaughter's big day," Armando said, his voice dripping with false warmth. He looked down at Renata, who was standing stiffly by Diego's side, her eyes glued to the floor.
Armando knelt down to Renata’s level. Diego felt every muscle in his body tense. He wanted to launch himself at his father, to tear him apart.
"And how is my little princess?" Armando asked, reaching out to pat Renata’s shoulder.
Diego saw the subtle flinch in his daughter's body. The hand Armando placed on her shoulder was the very hand that had bruised her ribs.
"She's ready, Father," Diego said, stepping forward and placing his hand over Armando’s, firmly but politely forcing his father to release his grip on Renata. Diego’s eyes locked onto his father’s. "She's been practicing very hard. We want to make sure she's focused. I'm going to take her to the backstage holding area now."
Armando’s eyes narrowed. A flicker of cold, dangerous authority flashed across his face—the look of a dictator who did not tolerate defiance, even from his own son.
"Of course," Armando said, his voice dropping to a low, quiet hum. "We wouldn't want any mistakes tonight, would we, Renata? A proper Arriaga always performs flawlessly."
The threat was clear.
Diego didn't reply. He guided Renata away, walking through the crowd toward the backstage area. He could feel Karla’s eyes on his back, suspicious and sharp.
Once backstage, he found a quiet corner. He pulled out his phone and sent a rapid, encrypted message to his childhood friend, Javier, who was now a senior special agent with the Federal Police in Mexico City—outside the jurisdiction of the corrupt local officials Armando bought and paid for.
Diego: I need you. Now. I have video evidence of severe child abuse involving my father and Karla. They have local police in their pocket. I need federal protection. Please tell me you’re in Guadalajara.
A tense minute passed. The phone buzzed.
Javier: I’m in Guadalajara. Holy shit, Diego. Are you serious? Armando? Send me the video immediately. I can get a federal tactical team to the cultural center in 30 minutes.
Diego felt a spark of hope. He looked at the tablet hidden in his jacket. He needed to upload the files. He quickly tethered the tablet to his phone's hotspot and began uploading the heavy video files to a secure cloud drive, sharing the link with Javier.
"Diego?"
He jumped, quickly hiding his phone.
It was Ms. Jimena, Renata’s piano teacher. She was a young woman in her late twenties, with kind, tired eyes. She looked at Diego, then at Renata, who was pale and trembling.
"Is she alright?" Jimena asked softly, kneeling beside Renata. "Renata, sweetie, are you okay?"
Renata looked at her teacher, then at her father.
"She knows, Ms. Jimena," Renata whispered. "I told him."
Jimena gasped, her eyes flying to Diego. A wave of profound relief, mixed with sheer terror, washed over her face. "Diego... thank God. I was so afraid she wouldn't have the courage to show you. I've been trying to find a way to help her, but your father... he controls everything in this city. If I went to the local police, they would have destroyed me."
"I know," Diego said, his voice cracking. "I’m dealing with it. I have federal backup on the way. But we have to get through the next thirty minutes. Can you keep her safe back here until her performance?"
May you like
"With my life," Jimena promised, wrapping her arms gently around Renata, careful not to touch her bruised back.
Diego nodded, his heart heavy. He had to go back out there. He had to sit next to the monsters and pretend to play along, while the timer on his daughter’s rescue slowly ticked down.
