Chapter 2 - INSIDE THE LIVING ROOM
Eleanor didn't hesitate. She pushed the heavy oak door shut and turned the deadbolt with a sharp, heavy CLICK. She engaged the secondary chain lock, ensuring the home was completely sealed from the dark street outside.
She guided her shaking daughter into the quiet living room, easing Sofia onto the soft fabric of the central couch. Sofia curled into a tight ball, her torn dress pooling around her bare, dirt-smudged feet. She gripped her arms, trying to cover the dark purple bruises blooming along her forearms.
Eleanor dropped to her knees in front of her daughter, her hands hovering over Sofia’s face, terrified to touch her where it might hurt.
"Sofia, sweetie, look at me," Eleanor begged, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're safe. You're home. But you have to tell me... who did this to you? Who touched you?"
Sofia stared at the dim floorboards, her shallow breaths causing her chest to heave. Her split lip quivered as she fought to find her voice.
"It... it happened at the hotel," Sofia whispered, tears streaming down her bruised cheeks, leaving clear tracks through the grime on her face. "In the honeymoon suite..."
"Was it Javier?" Eleanor asked, her blood running cold as she thought of her daughter's new twenty-nine-year-old husband—the polished, wealthy heir to the Robles family estate. "Did Javier hit you?"
"No," Sofia rasped, shaking her head violently. "Not him..."
She swallowed hard, her chest tightening as the memory rushed back into her mind.
"It was Carmen."
Eleanor froze. Carmen Robles. Javier’s fifty-six-year-old mother. A woman known throughout the city’s high-society circles for her extreme wealth, sharp political connections, and ruthless controlling nature.
A sharp, vivid memory flashed behind Sofia’s eyes:
The grand honeymoon suite at the St. Regis hotel. The room was illuminated by champagne lighting, but the atmosphere was suffocatingly cold. Carmen Robles, dressed in an elegant navy silk gown, stood over Sofia at a marble coffee table.
Beside Carmen stood three large, stern-faced women in formal attire, their hands clasped in front of them like security guards.
Carmen slammed a thick stack of legal documents onto the marble surface.
"Sign the condo over, Sofia," Carmen commanded, her cold, refined voice echoing through the suite. "Every deed. Every title. You sign it now, or you don't leave this room as a bride."
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Sofia sat trapped on the couch, shaking her head, backing away. "No... my mother bought that condo... it's all I have..."
The memory cut off sharply before the physical struggle began, returning instantly to the quiet living room.
