“If your dad would let me sign certain papers… just small things,” Rafael said, “it would be more efficient. It’s for the family’s future.”
Camila pretended to think about it.
“I’ll talk to him,” she replied calmly.
Rafael’s anxiety grew. And with it, the possibility that he was wrong.
Meanwhile, Marina didn’t stop. She compiled a file with records, screenshots, dates, emails. Camila documented every conversation, every request, every transfer. Not to humiliate: to protect.
The downfall came one seemingly ordinary afternoon.
Rafael, with feigned calm, told Camila about an “urgent opportunity.” He needed to make a move without intermediaries. She looked at him and smiled as if she were finally giving in.
“My dad said he might delegate some operations to you… if everything is transparent,” she commented, dropping the word “delegate” like someone dropping a match.
Rafael’s face lit up. Not out of love. Out of access.
That same day, taking advantage of a limited authorization Eduardo had granted for specific transactions, Rafael executed a direct transfer from a company account to a personal account.
Too big. Too blatant. Too desperate.
Hours later, Eduardo called Camila, his voice tense.
“Daughter… there was a strange transaction. A big one.”
Camila closed her eyes for a moment. The pain didn’t surprise her. It confirmed her suspicions.
“I know, Dad,” she said softly. “I’ll take care of everything. But… promise me you won’t blame yourself.”
That same night, Marina activated the next step: formal complaint, internal audit, preservation of evidence. There was no immediate public scandal, only a firm procedure.
When Rafael realized he’d been caught, he tried calling Camila again and again. She didn’t answer.
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