Chapter 16
Lorenzo walked through the hallways of the mansion, trying to untangle the chaos in his mind. Adrien's words kept echoing: he loved Margaret but respected Lorenzo's marriage. Why say it now? Adrien didn't seem like an impulsive man, but that confession seemed to have a purpose beyond the obvious.
Without realizing it, his steps led him to his mother's greenhouse. There, among the perfectly tended orchids, he always found a mix of calm and confrontation. His mother was standing with her back to him, carefully trimming a wilted leaf. Although Lorenzo knew how harsh she could be with the outside world, in private, she always adopted a sweet and protective demeanor with him-a calculated sweetness to keep him under her control.
-Lorenzo, dear, I wasn't expecting you so early -she said without even turning, as if she already knew he was there.
-Mother -he sighed-. I needed to talk to you.
She placed the scissors on the table, turning with a gentle smile that never quite reached her eyes but always managed to disarm him.
-What's troubling you, my son? -she asked, gesturing for him to sit on a bench beside her. Her voice was so warm it almost made one forget how sharp she could be when she wanted to.
Lorenzo hesitated for a few seconds. Talking to his mother was always a delicate game: she offered comfort, but always managed to gain something in return.
-It's Margaret -he finally admitted.
His mother's face lit up with subtle interest, though she kept her tone serene.
-Ah, Margaret. The woman who's saving your company. What about her?
Lorenzo averted his gaze, feeling a weight on his chest he couldn't quite identify.
-I don't know... there's something about her that doesn't add up. Her closeness to Adrien, her evasiveness... And her son, Mateo...
The boy's name seemed to capture all his mother's attention. She tilted her head slightly, as if evaluating an important piece of a puzzle.
-Mateo -she repeated softly, as if savoring the name-. He's an adorable boy. Although I can't help but notice something curious.
Lorenzo looked up, confused.
-Curious?
She gently stroked his face, a gesture that always made him feel like a child under her protection.
-His eyes, Lorenzo. They're like yours when you were little. That intense look, almost identical.
He frowned, surprised by the comment.
-What are you implying, Mother?
She let out a light laugh, as if minimizing the importance of her words, though her gaze said otherwise.
-Oh, nothing, dear. Just an observation. Sometimes coincidences lead us to interesting places, don't you think?
Lorenzo stayed silent, trying to process what he'd just heard. But his mother, as always, took the moment to guide him where she wanted.
-Listen to me, son -she said, taking his hands delicately-. I know this situation with Margaret and Adrien can be confusing, but you must remember who you are. You're Lorenzo De la Torre. Don't let anyone, not even someone as talented as Margaret, take control of your life or emotions.
He nodded slowly, caught between his mother's warmth and the coldness he knew hid behind her words.
-I'm not saying you shouldn't trust her -she continued-, but don't lower your guard either. That woman is intelligent, perhaps too much. And you need to stay in control.
Lorenzo pressed his lips together. His mother had an almost supernatural ability to sow doubts in his mind, but at that moment, he couldn't help thinking she might be right.
-Thank you, Mother -he murmured, rising from the bench.
She stopped him for a moment, grabbing his wrist with unexpected strength.
-Remember, Lorenzo, I'm always here for you. No one knows you better than I do. And no one loves you like I do.
Her tone was sweet, almost maternal, but Lorenzo felt a shiver run down his spine. She gave him one last smile before returning to her orchids, trimming imperfections with surgical precision, as if that small act was a metaphor for how she handled everything in her life.
Lorenzo left the greenhouse with more questions than answers. His mother's words kept echoing in his head, and although he wanted to ignore them, he knew she never spoke without a purpose. What did that "coincidence" about Mateo really mean? And how much more could Margaret be hiding?
Lorenzo closed the greenhouse door behind him, but his mother's words kept ringing in his mind. "His eyes are like yours when you were little." That seemingly innocent comment had become a thorn lodged in his consciousness.
He headed to his office, seeking refuge among the papers and numbers that usually managed to distract him. But this time, neither the company's finances nor Margaret's new designs could calm the whirlwind of thoughts.
"Mateo is three years old."
The phrase appeared out of nowhere, clear and devastating. Lorenzo stopped in his tracks. Three years ago... What had happened exactly during that time?
Amelia's face came to his mind, an image so vivid he could almost feel her presence. He recalled the days before her disappearance: the tension in her eyes, the arguments that had begun to wear down their marriage, and then, nothing. Amelia had simply left, leaving a void he'd filled with work and emotional walls.
But now... if Margaret was really Amelia, and Mateo was three years old...
He sat at his desk, drumming his fingers against the wooden surface. The possibility was as absurd as it was unsettling. What if Mateo was his son?
"That doesn't make sense," he thought, trying to find logical reasons to dismiss the idea. Amelia wouldn't have hidden something like that... or would she?
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone. It was a message from Margaret.
"Mr. De la Torre, I've just sent you the final sketches. I await your feedback for Monday's meeting."
Lorenzo read the message over and over, looking for something that might betray her-a sign that confirmed his fears. But as always, Margaret maintained her impeccable professionalism.
He put the phone aside and jumped to his feet. He needed answers.
That night, while reviewing the photos from the event where Mateo appeared, he realized that the way the boy smiled, the way he tilted his head... were painfully familiar details.
Determined to find the truth, Lorenzo grabbed his coat and left the mansion. His destination was clear: he had to talk to Adrien.
Adrien received him at a restaurant with a mix of surprise and caution.
-Lorenzo -he said, crossing his arms-. I didn't expect to see you at this hour.
-I can't wait any longer -Lorenzo replied, sitting beside him. His tone was serious, almost cutting-. I need you to tell me the truth, Adrien.
Adrien frowned but said nothing. Lorenzo continued:
-You know more than you're letting on. From the beginning, I've noticed your relationship with Margaret is... strange. But now I have another theory.
Adrien remained silent, only fueling Lorenzo's frustration.