Chapter 65 Chapter 65
Chapter 65 Chapter 65
Cavalier entered the main study with the photo in his jacket pocket and the look on the faces of men who had been enduring something alone for twenty-one days—something they were about to have to let go of.
Laura was already sitting in the armchair at the back of the room, her belly resting on the cushion and her feet propped up on the side table. Marcela had sent her two cups of tea with Gloria—a lie from her mother-in-law so that the two of them wouldn’t arrive at the study empty-handed.
“Cavalier.”
—Laura.
“Did you come with a photo or with news?”
“A photo.”
“Go ahead.”
Cavalier took the envelope out of his pocket, set it on the coffee table, and sat across from her, not next to her.
—Laura, before you see it, I want to tell you something. I received this twenty-one days ago. I didn’t show it to you because I wanted to confirm it with Derek first. We confirmed it three days ago. I came to tell you as soon as last night’s bachelorette party ended.
—Okay.
She opened the envelope. She took out the photo. She turned it over.
Laura looked at it for five seconds.
“Cavalier.”
—Yes.
“That woman in the background.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know her.”
—I know.
—Who is she?
Long pause.
“That woman’s name is Esther Cavalier. She’s Manuel’s youngest daughter. My aunt. My father’s sister, two years younger than him.”
—Cavalier.
—Yes.
“I’ve known your father for months. And no one ever mentioned an Aunt Esther to me.”
“I know.”
—Why?
—Because Esther left the family thirty-one months ago after a fight with my grandfather. They argued over my grandmother’s inheritance; she lost, left the continent, and no one has seen her since. My father doesn’t mention her. Neither does my mother. My grandfather removed her from the family portrait in the study two weeks after the fight.
—And what does Marcelo have to do with her?
—That’s what Derek and I confirmed three days ago. Esther arrived on the Pacific island five weeks ago. She lives next door to my brother. They’re not a couple, thankfully—they’re aunt and nephew. But they’re in this together.
“In what?”
—They’re working against Manuel. Esther never forgave my grandfather for what happened with the inheritance. My brother never forgave my grandfather for the exile. The two of them together are a bigger problem than either of them alone.
Long pause.
“Cavalier.”
—Yes.
“And Marcela?”
—We want to protect my mother. That’s why I didn’t tell her. That’s why I’m asking you not to tell her yet either. When all this is over, we’ll tell her both things at once. But not today.
—Okay.
Laura held his gaze for five seconds.
—Cavalier.
—Yes.
“One thing.”
“Go ahead.”
“This time you told me before I found out on my own. I’ll give you credit for that.”
—I know.
—I won’t forgive you for the twenty-one-day delay, but I’ll give you credit for the difference.
—Fine.
Cavalier took her left hand—the one that already had the empty tracker chain and the four rings.
“Laura.”
“Yes.”
“One more thing.”
“Go ahead.”
“The tracker ring.”
—Derek?
—Derek checked it all night. There’s no technical fault. The chip was flashing because someone tried to jam the signal from a short distance away. He confirmed it by the signature of the jamming software.
—Who?
—We don’t know yet. But the equipment used for that kind of interference, Laura, isn’t something you can just buy anywhere. It’s military-grade. And the only thing that technology does is block GPS trackers and encrypted communications. For one purpose only.
“For what?”
—To set up an operation against someone who has a tracker.
—Okay.
—I put another ring on you. New system, different frequency. I’ll give it to you tomorrow before the ceremony.
—Okay.
The weeks that followed were the calmest in recent months—both by contrast and because Cavalier made them that way.
He tripled security at the mansion without telling Marcela. He moved Derek into the main house for the next seven weeks. He replaced Marcelo’s surveillance team on the Pacific island with a new, trusted one, hired through an old military contact of Manuel’s who had been off the family’s radar for twenty years. Esther was monitored separately, in the house next door, without her noticing.
Laura continued going to the clinic three times a week until her growing belly made it difficult for her to climb the stairs at the Memorial. At seven months, she delegated almost all operational duties and handled administrative meetings from the mansion. Patricio brought her documents twice a week, looking increasingly nervous because he knew that at any moment he would be left in charge alone. That happened in the eighth month.
Carla had a smooth delivery. Carlos gained weight. Marcela knitted seven more baby blankets—one for each week—in colors ranging from yellow to pink to green to blue to beige to lavender to white. Manuel aged more quickly but remained steadfast. Vargas stopped by twice a week to check his heart, and twice a week to check Laura’s.
Cavalier didn’t leave the mansion for more than two days in a row during those seven weeks. When he traveled, he called Laura every four hours. When he was at the mansion, he wouldn’t leave her alone in any room for more than fifteen minutes. Laura put up with it because she understood that this level of protection was different now. It wasn’t control. It was fear.
And when fear is real, you don’t argue with a partner who’s afraid.
The day before the wedding, Laura went down to the covered garden with Cavalier.
The Catholic ceremony was to take place in the main garden, next to the fountain, with a small altar covered in white and pink flowers that Marcela had chosen without consulting anyone. The guests’ chairs were already arranged in four rows of twelve. The dressmaker had brought the dress the previous afternoon and left it hanging in the room in the west wing, with the short veil next to it.
Laura sat down in one of the chairs at the back. Her belly—she had turned eight months pregnant that very week—no longer allowed her to walk without someone’s hand by her side. Cavalier sat down next to her. Manuel appeared ten minutes later, walking slowly along the path, with a cane and a gray jacket she hadn’t seen him wear in years.
“Sweetheart.”
“Manuel.”
“Tomorrow is the day.”
“Tomorrow is the day.”
“Sweetheart.”
—Yes.
—One thing.
—Go ahead.
—It’s been two years since I’ve had a photo taken that was worth keeping. Tomorrow I’ll ask the photographer for two. One with you and my grandson. One with my great-granddaughter in your belly.
—Manuel.
—Yes.
—All right.
Manuel kissed her forehead with dry lips and sat down on the other side of Cavalier. The three of them sat there for three minutes, staring at the altar. Without speaking. Without a schedule. Without a phone. Without anything.
—Cavalier.
—Yes.
“I had tea with your mom this afternoon. I asked her not to tell me two things in one day tomorrow.”
—Which two?
“One, my love. That I’ll suffocate if she tells me that a thousand times. And two, my granddaughter. That the little one has my last name and yours, but I still can’t bring myself to say her first name out loud.”
Cavalier laughed briefly.
—All right. So what should we call her tomorrow?
—Elena. But only after the first kiss. Before that, sweetheart.
—All right.
“And you, Cavalier, one more thing.”
“Go ahead.”
—If you’re even a minute late to church, I won’t wait for you.
—I won’t be late, Laura.
“All right. Marcela told me about Manuel’s father. I’m not her.”
Manuel chuckled softly from the other side, without lifting his head from his cane.
At 8:20 p.m., while Laura went up to the west wing with Carla to go over the details of the dress for the umpteenth time and Marcela asked the dressmaker to adjust the pleat on the bodice because her belly had grown another half centimeter in a week, Cavalier went down to the main studio.
Derek was waiting for him with his laptop open and the expression Cavalier hadn’t seen on his face in seven weeks.
“Boss.”
“Derek.”
“We lost contact with Marcelo’s surveillance forty minutes ago.”
Cavalier stood motionless for three seconds.
“Derek.”
—Yes.
“Forty minutes?”
“Forty minutes. No signal. No report. No encrypted communication. No GPS. All six men on the new team disconnected from the central system at the same time. It could have been a satellite failure. It could have been interference. It could have been…”
Cavalier stood up from the armchair. He took two steps toward the desk. He stared out the study’s large window, where they’d spent seven weeks of peace bought hour by hour.
—Derek.
—Yes.
“Either that, or Marcelo is no longer on the island.”
“Yes, boss.”
“And Esther?”
“We’re still monitoring Esther. She’s in the house next door, alone, and hasn’t moved since six in the afternoon.”
—Alone?
—Alone.
—That means Marcelo left on his own.
—Yes, boss.
—Good.
“Will you let Manuel know? And the lady?”
Cavalier stood there for three seconds, staring out the window.
“No.”
“Boss?”
“The wedding is tomorrow. My wife has been waiting eight months for this day. My grandfather hasn’t slept well in seven weeks. My mother has been crying twice a day for a month and a half. If I tell them now, there won’t be a wedding tomorrow.”
“What if something happens?”
“Triple security tonight. Seal off all access points. Cancel the florist’s appointment for tomorrow at dawn and replace her with two of your men dressed as florists. And tomorrow, before my wife goes down to the garden, put the new tracking ring on her finger and explain in thirty seconds about the interference and the equipment change. Without telling her we lost contact with the island. Got it?”
—Yes, boss.
—And from now on, Derek, don’t leave my side for forty-eight hours. Got it?
—Okay.
Cavalier climbed the stairs to the east wing, his mind calculating the kilometers Marcelo might have traveled in forty minutes from a Pacific island to any point in the world.
And as he climbed, he realized two things.
One, that the last period of calm at the Cavalier mansion had lasted exactly seven weeks.
And second, that his wife—sleeping on the left side of the bed with the baby inside and the short veil hanging beside her—wouldn't find out until after she said "I do."