“And if death occurs, the payout is substantial.”
The room fell silent again.
But this time, it was colder.
Carmen let out a quiet breath. “He planned this.”
Lucía finally picked up the document.
Her hands didn’t tremble.
“How far along is the case?” she asked.
“We’re close,” Vega replied. “But we need something direct. Something that ties intent to action.”
Lucía leaned back slowly against her pillow.
“You want him to make a mistake.”
The inspector held her gaze.
“We believe he already will.”
Another pause.
Lucía closed her eyes briefly—then opened them with quiet resolve.
“Then we give him the opportunity.”
Carmen turned sharply. “Lucía—”
“I’m not asking,” she said calmly. “I’m deciding.”
The strength in her voice left no room for argument.
Inspector Vega exchanged a brief glance with the director.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
Lucía’s lips curved—not into a smile, but into something sharper.
“Tell him he can visit me again.”
Carmen shook her head. “That’s dangerous.”
“Not anymore,” Lucía replied. “Now he’s the one under observation.”
She looked back at the window, at the sunlight stretching across the city.
“He thinks I’m still weak.”
Her eyes hardened.
“Let’s not correct him.”
The next day, the message was delivered.
Alejandro Martinez was granted limited visitation.
Supervised, of course.
But the word allowed was all he needed.
He arrived earlier than expected.
This time, there was no careful performance at the nurses’ station, no polite inquiries. He walked straight to Lucía’s room, his expression controlled—but his eyes restless.
Carmen stood inside when he entered.
“I thought visits were restricted,” he said coolly.
“They are,” she replied. “This one is… exceptional.”
Their eyes locked for a second too long.
Then he turned to Lucía.
She looked weaker again.
Paler.
Her breathing slower, uneven.
Exactly as he remembered.
Relief flickered across his face—quick, but undeniable.
“You shouldn’t be sitting up,” he said, stepping closer.
Lucía gave a faint smile.
“I wanted to see you properly.”
That softened him—or at least, it made him lower his guard.
Carmen adjusted something on the IV stand, then stepped back.
“I’ll be just outside,” she said.
Alejandro watched her leave.
The door didn’t fully close.
He didn’t notice.
All his attention was on Lucía.
“You worried me,” he said, lowering his voice. “All these complications…”
Lucía’s eyes searched his face.
“Did I?” she asked softly.
A pause.
Then he leaned closer.
“You know how fragile everything is,” he whispered. “Your condition… your assets… everything depends on stability.”
There it was.
Not concern.
Calculation.
Lucía let her hand rest weakly against the sheets.
“I’ve been thinking,” she murmured.
His gaze sharpened.
“About what?”
“What happens if I don’t recover.”
Silence stretched between them.
He didn’t interrupt.
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