Chapter 3 - THE DROPS IN THE MILK
The camera in the playroom was high up in the corner, capturing the entire expanse of the custom-built room filled with wooden toys, climbing frames, and educational rugs.
On the screen, Santi and Mati were sitting at their little table, quietly building a tower out of magnetic blocks.
The door opened, and Paulina walked in.
Normally, Paulina rarely entered the playroom unless photographers from local society magazines were visiting to capture her “dedicated mother” aesthetic. But today, her face looked tight, impatient, and irritated.
She carried a small tray with two glasses of warm milk—the bedtime routine Rosalía religiously prepared every single evening.
“Stop playing with those blocks right now,” Paulina snapped, her voice sounding sharp and venomous, completely different from the sweet, airy tone she used in public.
Santi immediately dropped his block, looking up at her with wide, timid eyes. “Sorry, Mom.”
“Drink your milk. Both of you. Right now,” Paulina ordered, pushing the glasses toward them.
Mati took a small sip, then made a face. “Mom, it tastes weird. It tastes bitter.”
“It doesn't taste weird, Mati. Drink it or you won't get any dessert for a week,” she lied smoothly, her eyes darting toward the hallway to ensure no one was watching.
Then, Paulina reached into the pocket of her designer trousers and pulled out a small amber prescription bottle. She unscrewed the dropper, leaned over the boys, and squeezed two heavy, amber-colored drops into each of their glasses of milk.
Héctor gripped the edge of his desk, his vision blurring with absolute rage.
Sedatives.
Heavy-grade pediatric tranquilizers.
On the screen, the boys obediently finished their milk, trusting their mother implicitly. Within fifteen minutes, the effect was terrifyingly clear. Santi’s head drooped heavily against the edge of the table. Mati slumped sideways against the plush beanbag chair, slipping into a chemically induced, unnaturally deep sleep in the middle of the afternoon.
Paulina didn't tuck them into bed with a bedtime story or a kiss.
She grabbed her phone, snapped a quick photo of the unconscious boys to send to a friend with the caption: “Finally knocked out, thank god. Free for cocktails at the club by six,” and walked out of the room, leaving her two helpless children slumped over like broken dolls.
Héctor sat paralyzed in his leather chair.
The pieces clicked together with the force of an avalanche.
For months, Paulina had been complaining to him that the twins were “too hyperactive,” that they “cried too much,” and that Rosalía was “spoiling them by letting them stay up late.” She had pushed for a nanny replacement three different times, but Héctor had always refused because Santi and Mati loved Rosalía so fiercely.
So Paulina had taken matters into her own hands.
She was drugging his children every single day while he was at work so she could attend her endless social engagements without interruption.
And Rosalía?
Rosalía had found out.
Héctor remembered the argument he had overheard through the half-closed kitchen door four days ago. Rosalía had confronted Paulina, clutching an empty amber bottle she had found in the trash.
“Señora Paulina, this is dangerous! The doctor never prescribed this! If you give this to the boys again, I will have to tell Don Héctor!” Rosalía had pleaded, her voice shaking with righteous fury.
Paulina had smiled that cold, venomous smile and whispered, “You won't tell my husband a damn thing, you ungrateful peasant. Or I’ll make sure you leave this house in handcuffs.”
She had kept her promise.
Héctor closed his eyes, a suffocating wave of guilt crashing over him. He was a billionaire real estate titan who could command contractors, lawyers, and politicians with a single phone call, yet he had been completely helpless inside his own home because he was too blind to see the monster sleeping in his bed.
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He opened his eyes. The rage was gone, replaced by something much colder, much darker, and infinitely more dangerous.
The hunter had become the prey. And Paulina had no idea what was waiting for her when the sun came up.
