The billionaire secretly returned to find out if the nanny was abusing his children… but when he opened the door, he found something so shocking that for the first time in years he was breathless!

Nico’s scream broke the air.

-Dad!

Elena lay motionless on the carpet.

Santi, still leaning on his shoulder, gradually stopped laughing, as if he had sensed the change in the room’s temperature. The joy vanished abruptly.

Roberto did not advance.

He didn’t breathe.

He just stared at that scar peeking out from under the rolled-up sleeve of his blue uniform.

I had seen her before.

Not one like it.

The same.

A curved, thin, pale line, just below her elbow. The mark Alma, his wife, got at sixteen when she broke a boarding school window trying to escape to see her sick mother. No one knew that story except him… and Alma herself.

Elena slowly got up, carefully put the children down, and stood up.

He didn’t say “sir”.

He did not apologize for the mess.

It was not justified.

She just stood there in front of him, pale, with her eyes wide open, as if she knew it was all over.

“Who are you?” Roberto finally asked.

His voice came out hoarse.

More dangerous than a scream.

Elena swallowed.

—They…

But he didn’t get a chance to answer.

Behind Roberto there was a sharp knock.

Hurried heels.

And then Doña Gertrudis’s high-pitched voice cut through the hallway like a knife wound.

—Sir! Thank God he’s back! I knew something was wrong!

The housekeeper appeared in the room with a perfectly rehearsed expression of horror.

He looked at the disaster.

He looked at Elena.

He looked at the children.

And he put a hand to his chest as if he had just confirmed his worst suspicion.

“Look at the state of the house! Look at the state of it!” he exclaimed. “I warned you that girl couldn’t be trusted!”