The scream cut through the marble halls of the Balmont mansion like a whip.

“Get out of my sight, you useless old woman.”

From my hiding place behind the oak panel of the study, I felt my blood freeze.
That voice belonged to Sofía—my fiancée.
The woman I planned to marry in three weeks.

My name is Alejandro Balmont. I inherited Spain’s largest hotel empire at twenty-eight. Since then, everyone I met wore a mask. Perfect smiles hiding ambition; sweet words concealing greed. I learned to distrust everyone.

Except my mother, Lucía Balmont. The strongest woman I’ve ever known, now confined to a wheelchair, her speech stolen by a stroke. Three months ago, everything changed.

Sofía Duarte entered my life a year earlier. Model, influencer, flawless. Too flawless. A voice inside me whispered to be careful, but her beauty and charm felt so sincere.

Two weeks ago, I hired a private investigator. I couldn’t ignore the rumors anymore.

Her unexplained disappearances.
Strange bills.
The way she glared at my mother when she thought no one was looking.

The detective brought proof—plans to access my fortune, messages mocking my “paralyzed old mother.” But I needed to see it myself.

So I pretended to travel to Dubai. Told Sofía I’d be gone five days. I hid inside a secret room behind my study—no one alive knew about it. From there, with monitors showing every room in the mansion, I would finally see who Sofía Duarte really was.

The Five-Carat Monster

The first day was quiet. Too quiet. Sofía behaved perfectly—smiling, polite. She even kissed my mother’s forehead. I timed it: exactly three seconds.

But on the second day…

“I told you not to drool like that.”

Her voice echoed as she walked into the sitting room. My mother sat by the window in her wheelchair. A thin line of saliva had escaped her lips—something that always embarrassed her. Instead of wiping it gently, Sofía threw a napkin at her face.

“Clean yourself. I’m not your nurse.”

My mother tried lifting her one functional hand, trembling with effort. Her brown eyes filled with silent tears.

I clenched my fists so hard my knuckles turned white. Every part of me wanted to storm out and stop her. But I needed to know how far Sofía was willing to go.

“Your son is in Dubai making more millions for me to spend,” she said casually.
“And once we marry, I’ll put you in the cheapest nursing home I find. Or better…” She leaned close, inches from my mother’s face. “Maybe a little accident with your medication will speed things up. No one questions when the elderly just… pass.”

My heart stopped.

Then the door opened.

Rosa Méndez entered—our housekeeper of fifteen years. Rough hands from endless work, a face worn by life, but with the warmest smile in Barcelona. My mother always said Rosa was an angel in disguise.

“Excuse me, Miss Sofía,” Rosa said gently. “I’ve come to give Doña Lucía her medicine and prepare her for therapy.”

Instantly, Sofía put her mask back on—sweet voice, perfect posture.

“Ah, Rosa, perfect timing. She’s a bit messy today. I have an important meeting, so make sure she looks presentable.”

When Sofía left, something extraordinary happened.

Rosa ran to my mother.
She knelt in front of her, pulled a clean handkerchief from her apron, and wiped her face with overwhelming tenderness.

“Oh, my precious lady… what did that viper do now?”

My mother sobbed—the only sound she could make. Rosa took her trembling hand.

“Shh… Rosa is here. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Do you hear me? No one.”

She kissed my mother’s forehead, crying openly.

“That woman is poison. But Don Alejandro will notice. He must. And until then, I will protect you.”

For the next hour I watched Rosa care for my mother with a devotion that broke me. She gave her medicine, massaged her arms, played Chopin softly.

“Lucía,” she whispered, brushing her silver hair, “yesterday I sold the jewelry you gifted me.”

My mother groaned in protest.

“No, listen. I sold it to hire a private investigator. Yes—I hired one. Because I’ve seen how that woman treats you when no one is around. I’m gathering proof to show Don Alejandro when he returns.”

I froze.

Rosa…
Rosa was doing the exact same thing I was.

She continued, “Maybe I shouldn’t have sold your gifts, but you are worth more than diamonds, my queen. If I must lose everything to save you from her, I’ll gladly do it. You gave me dignity when the world crushed me. You helped me raise my children… Let me care for you now. Let me be your voice. Your hands. Your daughter, even if we share no blood.”

My mother placed her shaking hand on Rosa’s head.
A small gesture that meant everything.

And I—Alejandro Balmont, the man people call ruthless—cried silently as I watched.

The Truth Comes to Light

On the fourth day, Sofía made her biggest mistake.

I had secretly instructed my mother’s neurologist, Dr. Ramírez, to visit unannounced. Rosa led him to my mother’s room.

Everything was normal—until he checked the pill organizer.

“Rosa, who prepares these medications?”

“I do, doctor. Every morning, exactly as you instructed.”

“And no one else?”

“Well… Miss Sofía sometimes insists on helping.”

The doctor frowned.
“Rosa, look at this compartment. These are not the correct pills. This is high-dose Clonazepam. Combined with her other meds, this could cause respiratory failure.”

Rosa went white.

“A mistake like this…” he said gravely, “would have killed her.”

My pulse hammered violently. Sofía wasn’t planning to hurt my mother—she already had.

Rosa stood in shock, then suddenly, rage.

She marched to confront Sofía.

“Miss Sofía,” she said, voice trembling but firm, “did you change the señora’s medication?”

Sofía’s mask slipped just a fraction.

“Are you accusing me? Because that could cost you your job.”

“I don’t care about my job. I care about her life.”

“Listen, maid, when I marry Alejandro, you’ll be the first one out the door. And I’ll make sure no one hires you—not even to scrub toilets.”

Rosa didn’t move.

“Do what you want with me. But you will not harm her again.”

“She’s an old, useless invalid,” Sofía hissed. “Why do you even bother?”

“Because she taught me something you will never understand,” Rosa whispered. “She taught me that a person’s value is in their heart. And yours is empty.”

The slap echoed. Sofía struck Rosa so hard that she fell, my diamond engagement ring cutting her cheek.

My mother screamed—an awful sound of helpless rage.

“Shut up,” Sofía snarled. “Or you’re next.”

Judgment Day

That was enough.

I stepped out.

Sofía turned, her face draining of all color.

“Alejandro… you weren’t supposed to be here.”

“I never went to Dubai,” I said calmly. “I’ve been here the whole time… watching who you really are.”

Her breath shook.
“What—you misunderstand—”

“No. You misunderstand.”

I played the recording. Her own voice filled the room:
“A little accident with her medication… these things happen.”

She backed against the wall.

“Alejandro, I love you, please—”

“Don’t touch me.”

I lifted the tampered pillbox.

“You tried to kill my mother.”

I knelt beside Rosa, carefully wiping her blood.

“Are you alright, Rosa?”

“Yes, sir… I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize. You are the only reason my mother is still alive.”

I kissed my mother’s forehead. She clutched my hand with desperate strength.

Then I turned to Sofía.

“I have recordings, screenshots, proof of your debts, your schemes with your ex. You have two options.”

She wept.
“Alejandro, please—”

“Option one: I call the police. Attempted murder. Fraud. Assault. You will spend years in prison.”

She gasped.

“Option two: You disappear today. You end the engagement publicly, leave Barcelona, and never contact my family again. In return, I won’t press charges.”

“But… I have debts—”

“I’ll pay them. Not for you. For my safety. But everything I ever gave you must be returned.”

“I-I can’t afford—”

“You have one week. Or I choose option one.”

She stared at me, then whispered, “I’ll leave.”

“Good. You have thirty seconds.”

She fled.

Packed her things in ten minutes.
Left the Balmont mansion forever.

Family Is Chosen

When she was gone, I turned to Rosa.

“Rosa Méndez,” I said, “I have something to ask you.”

“Yes, sir?”

“You no longer work here.”

She froze.

“Wh-what?”

“You are no longer the maid.”

I handed her an envelope.

“You are now the Director of Care for Lucía Balmont. Full salary, full insurance, and your own suite in this mansion. You are family.”

Rosa burst into tears.

My mother reached out and held her hand.

Three months later, the mansion was different—lighter, warmer, alive again.

Rosa read to my mother every day.
My mother began regaining speech.

One rainy afternoon, she managed a full word:

“Family.”

She took my hand and Rosa’s, joining them.

And I understood something money could never teach:

Blood may create relatives.
But love… sacrifice… loyalty…

That is what creates a true family.

And Rosa Méndez—our quiet, humble angel—saved us.