Chapter 8 Trapped Between Lies

The city skyline was still, bathed in the eerie glow of flickering streetlights. Mariana sat on the edge of her bed, her bare feet pressing into the cold hardwood floor as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The kiss lingered like a whisper on her lips, and no matter how many times she tried to convince herself it had meant nothing, the thought was a lie. A dangerous lie. Her mission was clear: infiltrate, uncover, destroy. There was no room for distractions, no space for tangled emotions. And yet, here she was, heart hammering at the memory of Diego’s hands gripping her waist, his breath warm against her skin. She clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around the edge of the mattress. Get it together, Mariana. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, its glow slicing through the dim room. A message from Camila. Camila: Don’t get sloppy. He’s not a man who forgives mistakes. Mariana exhaled sharply, throwing the phone onto the bed. She knew that better than anyone. Diego Montero wasn’t the type to overlook deception. He was calculated, ruthless when he needed to be. And yet, something in the way he had looked at her earlier, like he was peeling back the layers, searching for the truth, sent a cold shiver down her spine. The air in the apartment felt suffocating. She needed clarity. Steeling herself, she rose and made her way to her laptop. If she couldn’t shake Diego from her mind, she would remind herself of the real reason she was here: justice. And justice didn’t come with stolen kisses or breathless moments in the dark. The dim glow of her laptop screen cast eerie shadows across her face as Mariana scrolled through the encrypted files she had managed to extract from Montero Global’s server. Her fingers moved quickly over the keyboard, decrypting layers of security until, finally, the system caved. A list of transactions appeared before her. Large sums of money wired to an anonymous offshore account. At first glance, it seemed like typical corporate dealings, but Mariana’s gut told her otherwise. Then, she spotted the signature on one of the transfers: Javier Delgado. Her stomach twisted. Diego’s most trusted advisor. She exhaled slowly, fingers hovering over the trackpad. It made sense, Javier had access to every deal, every client. But what was his connection to Rodrigo Santillán? Her eyes darted across the screen as she dug deeper, her breath hitching when she found it, an email thread buried in a hidden folder. Rodrigo: Everything is in place. He won’t see it coming. Javier: Timing is crucial. If he finds out, it’s over for both of us. A betrayal unfolding from within. Mariana’s blood ran cold. She had been so focused on Diego, so consumed by her own mission, that she hadn’t considered that someone within Montero Global might be playing a game far more dangerous than her own. Her phone buzzed again, making her flinch. This time, the message wasn’t from Camila. Unknown Number: You’re looking in the wrong places. Watch your back. She froze. Someone was watching her. The countryside estate was nothing like the cold, calculated skyscrapers Diego Montero called home. Here, the air was fresh, the silence profound. Mariana stepped onto the terrace, drawn by the sight of Diego standing alone, bathed in the soft glow of the fading sun. His posture was different, less rigid, almost contemplative. She was about to turn away when she noticed the photo in his hands. A woman, eyes kind yet hauntingly sad, her dark hair swept back in an old-fashioned style. Diego’s thumb brushed over the image absently, his face unreadable. Mariana hesitated before stepping closer. “She’s beautiful.” Diego didn’t startle. He exhaled slowly, his grip on the photo tightening. “My mother.” A beat of silence stretched between them, the weight of his words settling like a storm on the horizon. “She died when I was eighteen,” he continued, voice lower now. “Breast cancer. She hid it from us for years. By the time we knew, it was too late.” Mariana swallowed hard. There was something unsettling about seeing Diego like this, unguarded, vulnerable. He was always composed, always in control. But this? This was raw. “She sounds strong,” she said softly. Diego let out a humorless chuckle. “She was. She held this family together while my father built an empire, even when he barely noticed us. After she was gone, it all unraveled.” He finally looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Catalina never forgave him for it. And I… I became him.” Mariana felt the sharp pang of those words as if they were a confession, an admission of something heavier than guilt. “You’re not your father,” she said, meeting his gaze. Diego studied her for a long moment before shaking his head. “You don’t know that.” She did, though. And that terrified her. Mariana barely heard the knock at her door before Camila strode in, arms crossed and expression set in stone. “This needs to stop,” Camila said without preamble. Mariana sighed, rubbing her temples. “Not now, Camila.” “Yes, now.” Camila stepped closer, voice sharp. “You’re in too deep.” Mariana set down her glass of whiskey, leveling her best friend with a steady gaze. “I’m handling it.” Camila scoffed. “No, you’re not. You’re slipping. And the worst part? You don’t even see it.” Mariana clenched her jaw. “This is still a mission.” “No, Mariana,” Camila snapped, leaning in. “This is you getting caught up in something you swore wouldn’t happen. You have feelings for him.” The words were a slap to the face. Mariana opened her mouth, ready to refute, to argue, but nothing came. Camila let out a gentler sigh. "I know you, but you can keep lying to yourself all you want. And if you don't exercise caution, this will end badly. Mariana’s pulse pounded. She wasn’t fooling anyone, not Camila, not herself. But she wasn’t ready to admit it either. The glow of Diego’s laptop screen was the only light in the dimly lit office. Mariana’s pulse drummed in her ears as her fingers flew over the keyboard, searching, digging. She had waited for this moment for weeks, Diego had stepped out for an urgent call, and she had mere minutes to uncover whatever he was hiding. Her breath hitched when she found it. A hidden folder buried under layers of encrypted security. Project Santillán. Her fingers trembled as she hovered over the file. Whatever was inside could blow this entire mission open. Rodrigo had warned her about Santillán, but Diego never spoke of it. If this was connected to him, then she wasn’t just infiltrating a corrupt businessman’s empire, she was stepping into something far more dangerous. She clicked. The screen flickered. A black window appeared, lines of security code racing across it. ACCESS RESTRICTED. USER ALERTED. Her blood ran cold. A shadow shifted behind her. The office door clicked shut, the heavy silence pressing against her spine. Mariana swallowed hard, her heart slamming against her ribs. She turned slowly, her breath catching in her throat. Diego stood behind her, his expression unreadable, his gaze locked on the glowing laptop screen. The sharp angles of his face were cast in shadows, his lips pressed into a thin line. His tone was kind yet deadly. "You have ten seconds to describe your actions." Mariana forced herself to stay calm, despite the cold sweat forming at the base of her neck. She had talked her way out of worse situations. But something about Diego, about the way his jaw flexed, his fingers curling into a fist at his side, made this feel different. She said in a firm voice, "I was looking for a file." "One that appears to be hidden beneath an absurd level of security." His eyes didn’t waver. “And why would my assistant need access to something buried under a ridiculous amount of security?” She tilted her chin up, feigning innocence. “Because I don’t like secrets.” His chuckle was dark, humorless. “That makes two of us.” He stepped closer. Mariana forced herself not to shrink back as his scent, spiced cologne and something uniquely Diego wrapped around her. “I should fire you,” he murmured, his voice low, dangerous. “Or worse.” Mariana’s fingers curled against the desk, a challenge glinting in her eyes. “But you won’t.” Diego studied her, something unreadable flashing across his features. His gaze dropped to her lips for the briefest moment before he exhaled sharply and reached over her, slamming the laptop shut. Finally, he whispered in a strained voice, "Go home, Mariana." "Prior to my determination that you are more trouble than you are worth." She hesitated, her pulse hammering, but turned and walked past him. As she reached the door, he spoke again, his tone quiet but firm. “This isn’t over.” And she knew, without a doubt, that it wasn’t.