Chapter 3: The Gala of Deception
The Arandas were hosting their annual charity gala—a glitzy affair where the city’s elite gathered to praise Santiago’s business acumen and Camila’s "selfless" care for her elderly mother-in-law. It was the perfect stage.
Mariana spent the week meticulously planning. She had synchronized the digital files, creating a master track that wove together the most incriminating clips into a devastating narrative. She had also reached out to an old contact—a disgraced investigative journalist who had once been ruined by the Aranda family’s legal team. He was desperate for a comeback, and he had the means to ensure the audio didn't just vanish into the ether.
The night of the gala arrived. The mansion was transformed into a paradise of crystal, velvet, and expensive champagne. Santiago was in his element, his hand on Camila’s waist, introducing her to influential investors as the woman who had "tamed" his difficult mother.
Mariana moved through the crowd, tray in hand, her heart rhythm steadying as she approached the main sound console. The gala featured a complex audio-visual presentation—a tribute to the "Aranda Family Values."
She knew the security team, but she also knew their habits. During the keynote address, they would be focused on Santiago, not the technician's booth.
As the lights dimmed and the crowd hushed, Mariana slipped into the booth. Her hands were steady as she bypassed the primary sound board and interfaced her own device. She took a breath, looked at the crowd of people who had no idea they were about to witness a moral collapse, and pressed 'Enter.'
The video presentation—a montage of happy, staged photos of Camila and Consuelo—suddenly glitched. The music faltered and died.
Then, the audio kicked in.
It wasn't a speech. It was the sound of Camila’s voice, clear, cold, and cruel, echoing through the massive ballroom. “If that old woman refuses to eat... even better.”
May you like
The room went deathly silent.
Santiago froze. He turned to look at his wife, his mouth slightly parted in confusion. Camila’s face was a mask of shock, her eyes darting toward the booth where Mariana stood, watching, for the first time, as a queen lost her crown.
