Chapter 4 - THE FIANCÉE WHO WANTED HIM ALIVE, BUT HELPLESS
Vanessa Albuquerque watched the television coverage from her father's penthouse.
The headline read:
MONTENEGRO BUSINESSMAN HOSPITALIZED AFTER SUSPECTED MEDICATION INCIDENT.
No mention of her name.
Not yet.
She poured herself coffee.
Her father stood beside the windows overlooking Ibirapuera Park.
Senator Augusto Albuquerque was sixty-four, silver-haired, and accustomed to being obeyed.
He didn't turn when she spoke.
“Dante's awake.”
“I know.”
“The nurse is talking to lawyers.”
“I know that too.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“Then do something.”
Augusto finally turned.
“Do you understand what you've done?”
She stared.
“What I've done?”
“You created a scandal involving medication, medical records, and a man whose business associates aren't known for their patience.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You told me he'd be vulnerable.”
Augusto's expression hardened.
“Lower your voice.”
Vanessa took a step closer.
“You said the doctors would continue investigating his illnesses. You said his board would lose confidence in him.”
Augusto remained silent.
“You said we'd have enough time to secure the contracts.”
He moved toward her.
“I told you to handle your engagement. I did not tell you to stage a medical emergency in front of witnesses.”
Vanessa went pale.
They stared at each other.
For the first time, it occurred to her that her father might sacrifice her to protect himself.
Back at the hospital, Beatriz had obtained the relevant corporate governance documents.
Dante sat beside the window while she explained them.
Six weeks earlier, a legal memorandum had been circulated proposing temporary control arrangements if he became unable to conduct business.
The proposals were framed as protective measures.
A contingency plan.
An act of foresight.
But the practical effect was alarming.
Vanessa would gain substantial influence over a series of valuable companies during any extended period of incapacity.
Dante looked at the papers.
“I haven't signed these.”
Beatriz nodded.
“Some are drafts. Others contain electronic acknowledgments we're verifying.”
“Who prepared them?”
“An outside law firm retained through your corporate office.”
“By whom?”
Beatriz hesitated.
“Vanessa appears to have initiated the instructions.”
Dante's mouth tightened.
He had once thought his fiancée was simply organized.
She handled invitations.
Staff contracts.
Household spending.
His personal calendar.
But now those ordinary acts of management looked different.
They looked like a system designed to surround him.
I sat quietly while Beatriz worked.
Then I noticed a date.
“Dante, when did you first begin feeling sick?”
He considered.
“About three weeks ago.”
I pointed toward the document.
“This medical incapacity proposal predates your symptoms.”
Beatriz looked at it again.
Her expression sharpened.
“That doesn't establish wrongdoing on its own,” she said. “But the timeline is important.”
Dante stared at the date.
Then he whispered, “She prepared for me to become sick before I did.”
That night, Sofia called.
“Marina, someone came to the university asking for me.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
“A woman.”
“What woman?”
“She said she worked for the Montenegro family's legal department.”
“Did you speak to her?”
“No. Campus security asked for identification, and she left.”
I closed my eyes.
“You did the right thing.”
Sofia hesitated.
“Marina, I'm scared.”
My throat tightened.
“I know.”
“I don't want you to lose your job because of me.”
I almost laughed through tears.
“Sofia, you're my sister. There isn't a job on earth worth more than you.”
She was silent.
Then she said, “I found something.”
My heart began pounding.
“What?”
“Remember my university design project on historical buildings?”
“Yes.”
“I was researching the Montenegro Foundation's old rehabilitation center.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because one of my professors recommended the building as an example of adaptive reuse.”
I waited.
Sofia continued.
“The original architectural plans were uploaded to a public university archive. The property was acquired through a charitable trust years ago.”
“Okay.”
“And that trust was supposed to maintain public access.”
I frowned.
“What does that have to do with Dante?”
“Someone's applying to demolish it and build private luxury residences.”
A cold sensation spread through my chest.
“Who?”
Sofia was quiet.
Then she answered.
“An Albuquerque family development company.”
When I told Dante, he looked genuinely surprised.
“My mother founded that rehabilitation center.”
I stared.
“Your mother?”
He nodded.
“She died when I was twenty.”
“What happened?”
“Cancer.”
His expression softened.
“She believed people deserved medical care and rehabilitation regardless of whether they were wealthy.”
He looked toward the window.
“I haven't visited the center in years.”
I thought about the private medical records.
The proposed incapacity documents.
The suspicious property transfer.
“Maybe you should.”
Dante looked at me.
“Maybe I should.”
Then Beatriz entered with an urgent message.
Investigators had reviewed video footage from the mansion's west corridor.
It showed Vanessa entering Dante's private medication room late on three separate nights.
But the most important detail wasn't Vanessa.
It was the man accompanying her.
Dr. Henrique Sampaio.
May you like
Dante's longtime personal physician.
The same physician who had assured him his unexplained illnesses were caused by stress.
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