Part 6: The Voice His Daughter Had Never Used Before
Emiliano wiped his eyes, but the tears kept coming.
He wasn't crying because Rosa had sacrificed her birthdays.
He was crying because he had never noticed.
He had always considered himself an observant man.
In business, he could read hesitation in a handshake.
He could identify dishonesty from a single sentence.
He had built an empire by paying attention to details.
Yet the most important details of his life...
Had unfolded inside his own home.
And he had missed every one of them.
Victor quietly placed a bottle of water beside him.
"Sir."
Emiliano looked up.
"When was the last time you spent an entire day with your daughters?"
The question wasn't disrespectful.
It was honest.
Emiliano searched his memory.
Christmas?
No.
He'd taken conference calls that afternoon.
Martina's birthday?
He'd left early for São Paulo.
The beach vacation?
Canceled because of a merger.
Finally, he answered.
"I don't remember."
Victor nodded.
"I thought so."
On Camera Fourteen, Rosa returned to the study.
She smiled as though nothing had happened.
No one would have guessed she had just hidden away tears after speaking about her late mother.
"All right," she said cheerfully.
"Who wants hot chocolate?"
Martina's hand shot into the air.
"Me!"
Daniela laughed.
"That wasn't a difficult question."
Rosa winked.
"I suspected as much."
The girls followed her downstairs.
Their footsteps echoed through the hallway.
For a brief moment...
The mansion sounded alive again.
As they entered the kitchen, Patricia immediately looked annoyed.
"I thought I told you homework came first."
"It did."
Rosa answered politely.
"They've already finished."
Patricia folded her arms.
"So now you're making decisions?"
"No, ma'am."
"I'm following the schedule Mr. Duarte approved."
Patricia's expression hardened.
"I'll be changing that schedule."
Rosa remained calm.
"I'm afraid only Mr. Duarte can authorize changes involving the children."
The room fell silent.
The stranger sitting at the kitchen island watched with amusement.
Patricia forced a smile.
"We'll discuss it later."
She turned toward Daniela.
"Come here."
The older girl obeyed immediately.
"Who do you love more?"
Daniela blinked.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Patricia crouched until they were eye level.
"Me..."
"...or Rosa?"
The question stunned everyone.
Even Victor muttered,
"What kind of question is that?"
Daniela looked terrified.
She glanced toward Rosa.
Then toward Patricia.
Finally at the floor.
"I..."
Patricia smiled patiently.
"Go on."
"I love everyone."
"Wrong answer."
The room became painfully quiet.
"I asked you to choose."
Emiliano stood so abruptly that his chair slammed into the wall.
"What the hell is she doing?"
Victor didn't answer.
Neither of them could believe what they were seeing.
Daniela's breathing became uneven.
She looked only ten years old again.
A frightened little girl.
"I don't want to choose."
Patricia's smile disappeared.
"You have to."
"No."
A tiny voice interrupted.
Everyone turned.
Martina stepped in front of her sister.
She hugged her stuffed rabbit tightly.
"You can't make Dani choose."
Patricia stared at the younger child.
"What did you say?"
Martina swallowed hard.
"You heard me."
The little girl's knees were shaking.
But she didn't move.
She stood directly between Patricia and Daniela.
Protecting her older sister.
Rosa quietly took one step closer.
Ready.
Watching.
Waiting.
Patricia laughed once.
"Aren't you brave today?"
Martina didn't answer.
Instead...
She reached backward.
Without looking.
Her hand found Rosa's again.
Just like before.
Emiliano watched that tiny movement with a broken heart.
His youngest daughter had already developed survival instincts.
Stand together.
Stay close to Rosa.
Don't cry.
Don't argue.
He wondered how many times she had practiced those rules while he attended board meetings thousands of miles away.
Patricia leaned closer.
"I asked your sister a question."
Martina looked directly into her eyes.
Then, for the first time...
She spoke with a firmness Emiliano had never heard before.
"You keep asking questions that hurt people."
The kitchen fell completely silent.
Even the stranger looked surprised.
Patricia's face darkened.
"Excuse me?"
"My mommy..."
Martina whispered.
"...never asked questions that made us cry."
The words hit like thunder.
Emiliano closed his eyes.
Clara.
His late wife.
Even after five years...
His little girl still measured kindness by her mother's memory.
Patricia stood up abruptly.
"Go to your room."
Martina didn't move.
"I said..."
"Go."
Still...
The little girl remained exactly where she was.
Not because she wasn't afraid.
Because Daniela was crying behind her.
And she refused to leave her sister alone.
Rosa finally spoke.
"Miss Patricia..."
"I think everyone's upset."
"Perhaps we should—"
"I wasn't speaking to you."
Patricia snapped.
The stranger shifted uncomfortably on his stool.
The atmosphere had changed.
This no longer looked like discipline.
It looked like bullying.
Then something unexpected happened.
The stranger stood.
"Patricia."
She looked at him.
"Enough."
She frowned.
"What?"
"They're just kids."
Her expression turned icy.
"I don't remember asking your opinion."
He shrugged.
"I'm just saying..."
"They're scared."
For a moment...
Emiliano almost laughed.
Even Patricia's own lover...
Was uncomfortable watching her.
Patricia glared at him.
"You don't understand."
"No."
He admitted.
"I don't."
"I thought you said their father spoiled them."
He looked toward Martina.
"She looks terrified."
The room remained silent.
Patricia realized she had gone too far.
She forced another smile.
"You know children."
"They're dramatic."
But nobody believed it.
Not Rosa.
Not the girls.
Not the stranger.
And certainly not the man watching everything from the hidden surveillance room.
Suddenly...
Daniela did something that made Emiliano stop breathing.
She stepped forward.
Placed one trembling hand on Martina's shoulder.
Then looked directly at Patricia.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"But perfectly clear."
"Please..."
"If you're angry..."
"...be angry at me."
"Don't scare my sister."
Emiliano covered his mouth.
He had never heard that tone before.
It wasn't childish.
It wasn't defiant.
It was the voice of a child who had learned to negotiate with fear.
A child trying to protect someone smaller than herself.
The realization crushed him.
His ten-year-old daughter...
Had somehow become the emotional shield for her little sister.
Because their father...
Hadn't been there to do it himself.
And as Emiliano stared at the screens through tear-filled eyes...
He silently made himself a promise.
No matter what happened next...
No matter how ugly the truth became...
May you like
No one...
Would ever make his daughters afraid inside their own home again.
