Suddenly, the lights began to dim, the background music stopped, and a voice called for everyone to move to the room next to the reception. Dinner was about to begin.

“Michelle, let’s go,” Victor ordered irritably, grabbing her by the arm and practically dragging her with him. Michelle seemed about to argue, but Villafuerte didn’t give her the chance.

Gerardo gave a crooked smile. “If you’ll excuse us,” he said to the people still lingering around, then guided Cecilia away from the crowd. While everyone else headed to the neighboring room as instructed, they walked toward a balcony in the opposite direction, away from prying eyes.

Once alone, Gerardo kept his cheerful expression, but Cecilia snapped out of her trance and shoved him.
“Let me go,” she demanded. She wasn’t some thing to be dragged around and put on display without consequences.

“Wait,” Gerardo seemed to remember she was there and slipped back into his usual friendly persona.

“Wait for what? For you to tell me who you really are? For me to stand here while you do something to Ismael?” She grabbed the lapel of his jacket. “If you lay a hand on my baby, I swear I’ll kill you.”

“We’re friends, Cecilia. I’m on your side,” Gerardo pleaded, appealing to her emotions, and he was good at it. He looked sincere. But Cecilia had been through enough to know better.

“We are not friends. What do you want? Why did you bring me here?”

Gerardo took her hands. “Because there’s something I have to do, and I need you with me.”

“Stop dodging the question!” she struggled to pull away.

Gerardo took a deep breath. “You overheard it, didn’t you? Nieto’s company, the Villafuertes, and mine. We’re rivals. I don’t work at the hospital. I own it. My family’s been in the business for years.”

Cecilia frowned.
“And what does that have to do with me and Ismael?”

“The business world is ruthless, Cecilia. You have to find your opponent’s weak spots and hit them when you can. For a long time, we’ve been looking for a way to strike at the Villafuertes—and my people found you and Ismael.”

“What?”

“We have proof of the fraud Victor committed against you with your house, and we’re not the only ones who want to drag the Villafuertes into a scandal. As soon as the press finds out that the company’s most important heir swindled a young orphan and left her pregnant, they’ll lose clients and business partners. Their stock will plummet.”

“What?” Cecilia repeated, on the edge of hysteria. “You’re going to spread my story to the media?”

“Yes.”

“NO!” she shouted. “You can’t do this to me… I’ve been living in peace, I can’t—”

“Cecilia,” Gerardo cut in, serious now. “Victor scammed you. He deserves to pay for what he did. And while I have the evidence, I can’t press criminal charges, only you can.”

“And if I don’t want to? Besides, what does this have to do with Ismael?”

“You just have to look at him to know he’s a Villafuerte. Even if you don’t want to go after Victor and would rather let him get away with it,” he said coldly, “you can’t deny that truth. When this blows up, Victor will try to save his reputation by claiming his son.”

“Claim him?”

“He’ll take him from you.”

“He can’t take Ismael. I’ve raised him all this time, and he’s never cared.”

“Do you have proof?”

“Proof of what?”

“That Victor didn’t care. Does he even know about Ismael?”

“I-I consulted some lawyers, and they said it didn’t matter,” Cecilia stammered. “That Ismael had to be born—that it was pointless—I told Michelle’s mother—”

“Seven years ago, right?” Gerardo stared at her angrily. “But you did nothing when Ismael was born.”

Cecilia trembled. By the time she gave birth, she wanted nothing to do with lawyers or Victor. She assumed that if her ex hadn’t come looking for her, it was because he didn’t care, and she decided she’d raise Ismael alone. She hadn’t even told her current family who the father was.

“You have no way to prove that Victor knew about Ismael, and it’s obvious he can offer a better life than you can.”

“That’s not true. I love Ismael! Victor couldn’t give him even a fraction of that. He doesn’t know how to love.”

“Maybe,” Gerardo said, rolling his eyes, “but when has that ever mattered? By now, you should know that money talks.”

Cecilia lowered her head. Of course she knew that powerful people could get away with anything. If what Gerardo was saying happened, Victor could take Ismael, and she would end up being seen as the villain, not the victim.
“Don’t do it,” she whispered so softly Gerardo had to lean in to hear. “Don’t do it!” she repeated, louder this time, standing up to him. “Find another way to get at the Villafuertes. Why me? Why, if you know what he did to me, isn’t that enough?”

“It’s because I know what he did to you that I believe he should pay. And you know it too. That’s why you were so furious at the Lost Ship, that’s why you wanted to hit him now, because you want him to suffer for what he did.”

“You’re wrong,” she growled. “I want answers… but even if I did want revenge, I don’t care about it if it means putting Ismael at risk. I won’t risk losing him. There’s no fortune that could buy his happiness.”
Then she shoved Gerardo, finally breaking free of his grip.
“And let me tell you again, if you so much as touch Ismael, you’ll regret it.”

“That’s why I want you to marry me,” Gerardo said at the exact same time Cecilia shouted, “I’ll—” but she froze as she processed what he’d just said, seeing him produce a small velvet box from his pocket.

“If you marry me, you and Ismael will have all my money. I can give him everything he needs, and no judge would hesitate to leave him with you. You’d have everything Victor could offer, plus a real family.”

Cecilia stared at the box, then at Gerardo, and let out a growl. “No,” she snapped.

“I want to protect you, Cecilia, but I can’t if you don’t—”

“Then don’t do this! Let me go home, to my family, and forget about me.”

“It’s not that simple,” Gerardo stepped closer, forcing Cecilia to back up until she hit the balcony railing.
“And whether you say yes or no, I’m still going to ruin Victor. Do you understand?”

They stood in tense silence for a long while, just staring at each other, the sound of Cecilia’s ragged breathing filling the space.

“So you’re saying my choices are: marry you or lose my son, is that it?”

“Take it,” Gerardo opened the box and pulled out a diamond engagement ring. He grabbed Cecilia’s hand and forced her to hold it.
“This benefits all of us. You, me, and Ismael. I promise I’ll love him like my own, and I’ll treat you the way you deserve. I do love you. I never understood why Victor chose Michelle over you.”

“Neither do I,” Cecilia thought, clenching the ring so tightly the stone bit into her palm.
“You don’t love me, Gerardo. None of you know how to love. You just see what you want and take it.”

“Cecilia…” Gerardo was about to launch into another persuasive speech when he went quiet. The blonde was inspecting the ring for a moment before slipping it onto her finger.

“You know something, Gerardo?” Cecilia said, looking down at her hand, admiring how the ring looked on her finger. It was, admittedly, a beautiful ring with an elegant design, despite the oversized stone.
“I hope this hurts like hell,” she added, and then punched him square in the face, digging the diamond into his cheek.

Then she ran.

The last thing she saw from the balcony was Gerardo staggering backward, caught completely off guard by the blow. She heard him call after her, but she didn’t stop. Only one thought filled her mind: she had to call Manuel, tell him the truth she’d been hiding for years, and ask for help.

She and Ismael had to disappear.

Because no one, absolutely no one, was going to force her into marriage or take her baby away.