Chapter 7 - The Master of the House
Valeria’s notoriously thin patience was rapidly fraying under the public defiance. She closed the short distance between them, extending a perfectly manicured hand with long, sharp nails toward the boy.
"Darling," she said, her voice dropping into a low, incredibly dangerous register that only he could hear. "Children should absolutely never speak about complicated things they do not understand."
Mateo physically recoiled from her touch, taking a quick step back, but his brave eyes never left hers.
"I did understand," he said, his voice gaining a fraction more confidence despite his racing heart.
Valeria completely dropped her sickly sweet smile. Her face hardened into a terrifying mask of pure, intimidating anger.
"Mateo."
It wasn't a name anymore; it was a severe, chilling warning. A cold shiver violently ran down Lucía’s spine as she watched the tense exchange. The boy swallowed hard, visibly terrified, but he bravely shifted his gaze. He looked directly at the small, champagne-colored satin purse resting on the edge of the antique sofa—Valeria’s purse. Then, he looked up at the two towering police officers.
"I saw who really hid the necklace."
A collective gasp rippled through the grand hall, spreading like a sudden, fierce wildfire through dry brush. Valeria froze completely, her body turning as rigid and lifeless as a marble statue. The taller police officer frowned deeply, releasing his tight grip on Lucía’s arm for just a moment to step toward the young child.
"Who exactly did you see, son?" he asked, his tone shifting from authoritative to intensely curious.
Mateo slowly raised his trembling index finger. He did not point at the weeping maid in handcuffs. He pointed directly at the champagne satin purse sitting innocently on the sofa.
"It is right in there."
Valeria’s face lost all its healthy color, turning ashen.
"Don't spout such ridiculous nonsense!" she snapped sharply.
Mateo began to cry, hot tears spilling down his cheeks, but his small arm remained raised, pointing unwaveringly at the purse.
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"I saw her! I saw her put it in her bag when she thought nobody was looking!"
Before anyone could react, the heavy double doors of the hall opened wider. Don Alejandro Alcázar, the intimidating master of the house, stepped inside, his sharp eyes instantly assessing the chaotic scene before him.
