“I know a lot of things,” Jimena said, with a polite smile and hard eyes. “For example, I know this isn’t the first time you’ve come to a hotel with my husband. The Mesón del Río last month, the Continental two months ago. Should I go on?”
Tomás felt the lobby tilt beneath his feet.
“Jimena, this isn’t what it looks like…”
“Oh, isn’t it?” she interrupted. “Because it seems you brought your lover to a luxury hotel using the card linked to our joint account. The same account I’ve been scrutinizing for six months.”
“I know a lot of things.” The receptionist stood frozen, unsure whether to duck or vanish. To one side, in an office doorway, another woman in a dark suit watched the scene, arms crossed, the expression of someone who had rehearsed this moment.
“Have you been spying on me?” Tomás blurted out, trying to regain some control.
“Spying?” Jimena let out a humorless chuckle. “Tomás, you weren’t even creative. ‘Late nights at the office’ that your assistant couldn’t confirm. Weekend ‘conferences’ that your boss never mentioned. Hotel charges on the shared credit card. I didn’t need to spy on you. I just had to pay attention.”
Nadia took a step back.
“I… I’m leaving,” she murmured. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“Don’t leave because of me,” Jimena said, her tone stopping her in her tracks. “In fact, you should stay. The room’s already paid for.” Enjoy the spa, order room service, take advantage of all the amenities. Consider it compensation for your time.
“What are you doing?” Tomás whispered, furious.
“To be fair,” she replied. “Nadia didn’t make any promises to you. You did. She deserves, at the very least, a peaceful night. You, on the other hand…”
Nadia looked at her, still trembling.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Briones. I really didn’t know he was married. He doesn’t wear a ring when he travels.”
“I believe you,” Jimena said, this time with a genuine hint of compassion. “It’s not the first time he’s used that trick.”
Nadia snatched the keycard from Tomás’s hand, almost tearing it away, and ran toward the elevators.
Tomás wanted to follow her, but Jimena blocked his path with a single glance.
“Can we talk about this in private?” he asked, his throat dry.
“Of course,” she said, gesturing to the side door where the woman in the dark suit was waiting. “My office is this way.”
The other woman took a step forward.
“I’m Mariana Chen, Mrs. Briones’s lawyer,” she introduced herself with a slight nod. “Good evening, Mr. Briones.”
Jimena’s office was spacious, overlooking Paseo de la Reforma. There were hotel models on a shelf and framed blueprints on the wall. None of that existed in the life Tomás thought he knew.
Mariana sat in a corner, opened a leather folder, and remained silent.
“Since when have you known?” Tomás blurted out as soon as the door closed. “Since when have you known about… Nadia?”
“About her, two months ago,” Jimena replied, sitting down behind the desk. “About your infidelities in general… almost a year.”
Tomás blinked.
“A year?”
“The first was Estefanía, the one from accounting, remember?” she listed, like someone going over a list of suppliers. “Then the woman from the conference in Cancún. After that, another one I didn’t even bother to identify. I stopped counting after the fourth.”
He slumped into a chair.
“If you knew all that… why didn’t you say anything?”
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