My mother-in-law placed a bottle of sleeping pills in front of me and said, “If anything happens to Julián, you’ll be the first person everyone blames.”

The dining room was vast, dominated by a long mahogany table. I sat at the far end. Alejandro sat at the head.

The clinking of silverware echoed in the unbearable silence.

“Have you given any thought to the heavy machinery business, Sofia?” Alejandro asked casually, slicing his steak. “Once Mateo... passes, the assets will need to be managed immediately. The tax burden alone will be crushing for a grieving widow.”

“I haven't thought about money,” I said softly.

Isabella took a sip of red wine. “We know you haven't, dear. You’ve never had a head for these things. That’s why Alejandro has taken the liberty of drafting a power of attorney. You’ll sign it tonight. It will allow Diego to absorb Mateo’s accounts into the family trust.”

They weren't even waiting for him to die anymore. The arrogance was staggering.

“Where is Diego?” I asked, noticing his empty chair.

“He is spending a few quiet moments with his brother,” Alejandro said without missing a beat. “Saying his goodbyes.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. It was 11:35 p.m.

Ten minutes before the time written in the red binder.

Underneath the table, my phone vibrated. A single text from my lawyer: The police are in position. Give the signal.

I stood up, knocking my chair backward. “I need to check on my husband.”