The apartment was quiet.
Always silent.
There were no photos on the walls.
There were no personal traces.
Nothing indicated that a real person lived there.
It looked like a luxury hotel, but it was cold as a grave.
His phone vibrated.
His assistant reminded him of the board meeting at 9:00 a.m. and confirmed that the deal with Rivera had been finalized for 230 million pesos.
Alexander replied:
“Well.
That number meant nothing to him.
He entered his study, opened a locked drawer, and looked at the only thing that really mattered.
A small glass frame containing a piece of faded red ribbon.
The fabric began to deteriorate despite having been preserved.
He was 22 years old.
Every morning I looked at her.
And every morning I had the same thought.
Where will it be?
The board meeting went exactly as planned.
Congratulations.
A handshake.
A round of applause for another successful real estate deal.
Alexander smiled, said what he had to say, and played his part to perfection.
But inside I felt nothing.
Afterwards, his partner Carlos Rivera took him aside and asked:
“Are you OK?”
Alejandro said yes.
Carlos sighed.
He told her that Alejandro had been repeating the same thing for five years, ever since he started buying properties in the southern part of Guadalajara.
For years there were no profits.
Why that place?
Alessandro replied that he had his reasons.
Carlos looked at him for a long time and said:
“It’s because of the girl you’re always looking for, right?”
The girl he never stopped talking about.
Alejandro’s jaw tensed.
Carlos said that maybe she didn’t want to be found.
Alessandro replied coldly:
“Don’t mention it again.
But it was too late.
That thing had haunted him for years.
That afternoon, Alejandro sat alone in his office and opened a file on his computer.
Five years.
Three private investigators.
Millions of pesos spent.
