Ricardo’s breath caught in his throat as he leaned closer to the monitor, every muscle in his body locked in place. The woman on the screen… she wasn’t the Sofia he thought he knew.
Sofia’s eyes darkened as she turned sharply toward Elena.
—“Why are they still here?” she snapped, pointing at the twins. “Take them upstairs. I don’t want to hear a single sound.”
Mateo instinctively grabbed Elena’s skirt, his small hands trembling. Lucas didn’t cry—he just stared, frozen, like a child who had already learned that fear must be silent.
Elena knelt down, her voice barely a whisper.
—“Come, my loves… it’s okay…”
But it wasn’t okay.
As Elena turned, Sofia grabbed her arm violently, forcing her back.
—“Don’t forget who pays your salary,” she hissed. “You speak when I allow you to speak.”
Ricardo’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His heart pounded against his ribs, each second on that screen confirming his worst nightmare.
Then it got worse.
Sofia crouched down in front of Lucas, her smile twisted into something cruel.
—“And you,” she said softly, gripping his arm right where the bruise had been, making him flinch, “next time you tell your father anything… it’ll be much worse. Do you understand?”
Lucas nodded, tears silently streaming down his face.
Ricardo couldn’t breathe.
All the pieces fell into place—the fear, the silence, the bruises.
But the final blow came seconds later.
Sofia stood up, pulled out her phone, and laughed.
—“Once the wedding is done, everything will be mine anyway. The house, the accounts… all of it. And those kids?” She shrugged coldly. “They’re just temporary.”
Ricardo froze.
This wasn’t just cruelty.
It was a plan.
Slowly, deliberately, he reached for his phone, his mind now clearer than ever before. The businessman in him had returned—but this time, it wasn’t about money.
It was about war.
And Sofia had no idea… she had just revealed everything to the one man she should have feared the most.