The millionaire’s mother fell, her face contorted with fear.

«Please, stop,» she pleaded through her tears.

The fiancée looked at her with contempt, gloating over her power, believing she could defeat her in front of everyone, but she didn’t know that every word, every tear, was being heard by someone who would never forgive.

And as the millionaire entered, his gaze made the walls tremble, and so did his marital position.

The silence in the mansion was like a living entity, heavy and unsettling.

Doña Isabel looked at herself in the tempered glass of her new apartment, a space so vast and cold it felt like a luxurious mausoleum.

The wine-colored dress that Alejandro insisted she buy felt like a strange suit of armor.

The fabric felt strange to her hands, already accustomed to the roughness of her work. She sat on the edge of the platform for an hour, undecided whether going down for dinner would be a brave or the worst possible act.

The sudden opening of the door startled her.

It was Valeria, who had entered without knocking, a familiar habit Isabel was beginning to notice and dislike.

Her son’s fiancée was already dressed in a form-fitting white dress, making her look like a stone statue.

However, her eyes lacked the warmth of a future bride; instead, they held the cold, analytical gaze of an inspector.

«Why isn’t your future husband ready?» Valeria asked, her voice sweet but betraying a hint of venom.

Her gaze swept over the simple cotton dress Isabel was still wearing, an outfit that should have been clean and elegant, but in this situation, it shimmered with a delicate charm. «Alejandro’s coming down soon.

She doesn’t want him to see her looking like this.

He might be embarrassed.» Isabel felt blood rush to her face.

Embarrassed.

These are clean clothes.

Valeria, and they’re mine.

Of course, of course, I didn’t mean to offend, Valeria said, walking to the wardrobe and opening it wide, revealing a wine-colored dress.

It’s just that Alejandro went to great lengths to buy this for her.

He wanted her to shine, to look like the mother of a millionaire, not the kind of, «Cancel it, default. Go ahead. That’ll be our little plan to make him happy.»

That line was a perfect trap. Refusing would be a direct insult to her son’s generosity.

Isaab nodded silently, feeling cornered.

While she changed, Valeria remained in the room, observing and assessing her.

When Isabel finally finished putting on the Dress, Valeria circled her like a shark.

Much better.

Now she looks like a different person.

Cancel anything, let’s go downstairs.

Lean on me, I don’t want you to fall down the stairs.

It would be a shame to disturb this discounted Dress before everyone sees it.

Valeria’s grip on her arm was firm, almost painful, a reminder of who was in charge.

At the bottom of the stairs, Alejandro awaited them with a smile that could light up the whole city.

What a pair of queens.

Mother, you look amazing.

You don’t need to ask?

Does Mom have to look like a movie star?

A star, my dear. “I told you already, she just needs a little motivation,” Valeria replied, giving Isabel a meaningful look before leading her to the dining room. The dining room was a lavish display of accounts that made Isabel feel nauseated. They sat down, and Lucia, the maid who had worked in the house for years and watched Alejandro grow up, began to act like a beast. She was a discreet woman with a keen, observant eye, and the only one in the room with a genuine appearance.