A hotel chauffeur drove them to the ballroom where the dinner would be held. When they arrived, the room was already partially filled. Like the hotel, the ballroom was enormous, and the decor was just as impressive as the guests’ clothing and cars. Everyone there looked like they belonged in a high-society magazine. No doubt, most of them were millionaires.

Cecilia noticed that as soon as they crossed the entrance, several people turned to look at them. Some even pointed openly. She also noticed Gerardo scanning the room, as if searching for someone.

“Your friends aren’t here yet?” she asked, trying to sound casual, hoping to ease the growing tension in her shoulders. She had no idea Gerardo was such a well-known doctor or that the event was this important… though maybe she should have guessed. After all, the hospital where he worked was famous, and its representative was bound to draw attention.

“No, not yet,” Gerardo murmured, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Cecilia glanced around the ballroom too, as though she might find a familiar face, but quickly scolded herself. Who would she know here? Instead, she let her gaze wander to the chandeliers on the ceiling and the waiters, spotless in their black vests, carrying trays of glasses and hors d’oeuvres.

“Gerardo!” a woman’s voice called out.

Cecilia turned to see a tall woman with long brown hair, big eyes, and full lips. She was slender and wore a beautiful turquoise dress.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” the woman said.

“Mrs. Miranda…” Gerardo began, but she cut him off.

“Mira, Gerardo, or just Miranda, if you must, but never Mrs. Miranda,” she said, playfully tapping his shoulder. “So many parties, and you’re still so formal. It makes me feel old, and you know it.”

Cecilia had no idea who these people were that Gerardo kept introducing her to, but she quickly realized they were important. As the evening went on, she learned that Miranda Torres was the organizer of this dazzling event, and the other guests were owners of clinics, medical device manufacturers, patent holders, and the like. Every time Gerardo introduced her as his companion, the people of lower social standing seemed to take particular note.

She met Óscar, Lalo, Carlos, and several others whose names she forgot almost immediately. But when she shook hands with Katie Quezada and her husband, Orion Villafuerte, she understood at once that everyone here was highly influential — and they treated Gerardo as one of their own. From experience, she knew that rich people, no matter how polite, didn’t treat outsiders like that unless they genuinely belonged.

Just like Miranda had done, Orion told Gerardo he hadn’t expected to see him there. And though Katie changed the subject in a light, friendly way, Cecilia easily picked up on the tension between Gerardo and Orion.

She felt uneasy. She didn’t like the Villafuertes, and even less when Orion turned his attention on her, firing off rapid, direct questions as if he were a police officer. Cecilia answered with her name and age but didn’t get a chance to say anything else because Gerardo, visibly uncomfortable, tugged her away toward another part of the room to meet more people.

“Gerardo, what’s going on?” she asked quietly, taking advantage of the rare moment alone with him.

“What do you mean?” he replied, still scanning the crowd, barely paying attention.

“All these people… Why are they looking at us like that? At me?”

“These parties are boring,” Gerardo said evasively. “They’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Right…” she frowned, suspicious. “Gerardo, I’m not stupid, what…?”

She didn’t finish the sentence. Her friend had suddenly locked his gaze on something about four meters away. Curiosity made Cecilia look in the same direction.

There, surrounded by several people—the same ones who had been hovering around them earlier—was Victor. He’d arrived fashionably late, and fortunately, hadn’t seen her yet.

“Victor,” Cecilia whispered.

And then, as someone shifted out of the way, another figure appeared at his side.

“Michelle,” Gerardo murmured, in the same breathless tone Cecilia had used for Victor.

Cecilia forced herself to look away from Victor’s profile and turned to Gerardo. A dozen questions crowded her mind. She opened her mouth, ready to demand an explanation for what the hell was happening. But Gerardo wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he slid an arm around her waist, as if silently challenging someone across the room.

On instinct, Cecilia looked forward again. This time, she saw that Victor had noticed her. Suddenly, everything around her faded. She no longer felt Gerardo’s hand on her waist, nor noticed Michelle’s surprised expression. There was only Victor and her. The black eyes of the man who had once been the love of her life glared at her, as if willing her to turn to ashes and disappear into the wind.

Was Victor angry? Did he hate her? She didn’t dwell on it. Victor didn’t know what hate was… but she, Cecilia, would teach him. She’d show him what it meant to loathe someone so deeply you wished them dead. And of course, she’d show him how it was done. She wasn’t about to stand there doing nothing; she was going to grab one of those silver trays piled with hors d’oeuvres and smash it over Victor’s head. Like a true daughter of her mother.

She pulled free of Gerardo’s grip and, without breaking eye contact with Victor, started moving toward him. She had barely taken two steps when Gerardo grabbed her wrist.

“Sweetheart,” he said, in a tone she’d never heard from him before, pulling her back toward him, “what are you going to do?”

Cecilia frowned, confused. Why was he saying that? Sweetheart? She didn’t have time to ask. Gerardo, taking advantage of her surprise, kissed her. He pulled her close, preventing her from breaking away, though Cecilia was so stunned she didn’t even try. She simply let their lips touch while her wide, shocked eyes met his.

Gerardo was wearing an expression she didn’t recognize.

“I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen them,” Gerardo murmured, a crooked smile playing on his lips, “but can’t you see our dear friends are a little busy?”

Cecilia blinked and turned her gaze from Gerardo back to Victor. Now it was Villafuerte staring at her like he wanted to kill her. Maybe with a canapé tray too.