The Jáuregui mansion, bathed in amber light and sculpted by architectural shadows, resembled a temple dedicated to modern success. As Luisa's car drove up the paved driveway, Isadora felt a strange serenity wash over her. She was not nervous; she was on a mission.
— Look at all these people, Luisa whispered, parking the car. Papa is already here, I see his chauffeur. And look... the Barragáns' car is right in front.
Isadora felt a slight pang in her heart at the mention of that name, but she let nothing show. She smoothed her green silk dress, ensuring that her grandmother's brooch was securely in place.
Stepping out of the vehicle, she was immediately struck by the opulence of the place. The scent of the white orchids, which Camila had so meticulously arranged, floated in the air, heavy and heady. Hardly had they crossed the threshold than the hubbub of hushed conversations and the clinking of crystals enveloped them.
— Isadora! Luisa! You are finally here! Camila approached them. She wore a pale blue dress that made her appear even more fragile. Her eyes widened upon seeing Isadora.
— Isadora, this color... you are incredible. It looks as if this dress was created for this room.
— Thank you, Camila. Your decoration is splendid. It is of an exquisite elegance, Isadora replied with a measured sincerity.
As they exchanged a few pleasantries, a high-pitched voice tinged with contempt rose behind them.
— Oh, but look who is here. I didn't know the faculty was handing out invitations to charitable works tonight.
Isadora froze. She didn't need to turn around to recognize that voice. Ximena Barragán stepped forward, dressed in a bright red designer dress, a glass of champagne in her hand. A bit further away, her father, Ruben Barragán, Alejandro's appointed notary, was talking with another guest, ignoring for the moment his daughter's barbs.
Ximena wore a venomous smile. She had never forgiven Isadora for catching the attention of Lorenzo Figueroa. Lorenzo was the son of a major landowner, the kind of match Ximena considered her due. Isadora and Lorenzo had lived through a brief idyll at the university, until the day Lorenzo discovered the truth about her social status. The breakup had been brutal, humiliating for Isadora, and a source of infinite joy for Ximena.
— Ximena, good evening, said Luisa, attempting to temper the atmosphere.
— Luisa, darling, you are always so kind to drag your social projects around with you, Ximena retorted, staring at Isadora. Tell me, Perez, how did you manage to pay for this fabric? Did Lorenzo leave you a few tips before realizing you were nothing but an imposture?
Isadora took a step forward. Her green eyes seemed to darken, taking on the deep hue of the forest. She showed no anger, only a quiet superiority that made Ximena nervous.
— Lorenzo always had a pronounced taste for what is authentic, Ximena. That is undoubtedly why he eventually grew bored with you after our breakup. As for my dress, it is the work of a talented artist. Something your money can buy, but your lack of taste will never understand.
Ximena's face turned purple. She was about to respond when an imposing shadow loomed over the group.
— Is there a problem here?
Alejandro Jáuregui had approached, hands in his pockets, looking both relaxed and menacing. Ruben Barragán followed close behind, wearing an obsequious smile.
— No problem, Mr. Jáuregui, Ximena hurried to say, instantly changing her tone to adopt a sugary voice. We were simply discussing Isadora's... courage for coming here tonight.
Alejandro ignored Ximena and turned his gaze toward Isadora. He remained silent for a moment, examining her with an intensity that made the surrounding guests shiver.
— You came, he said, his voice being a low murmur. And you chose green. An excellent choice.
— I told you I would check my schedule, Mr. Jáuregui, she replied with a provocative smile. It turns out I had a moment to grant you.
Ruben Barragán intervened, seeking to find favor with his most prestigious client.
— Alejandro, I didn't know you knew Miss Perez. Her father is... well, it's an interesting story, isn't it?
Isadora felt the trap closing. Ruben likely knew about Pablo's garage. But Alejandro did not give him time to continue.
— Miss Perez is the most brilliant student in her class, Ruben. And in this house, talent interests me far more than genealogy. Do not forget that.
The remark was like a cold shower for the notary and his daughter. Alejandro signaled to a waiter.
— Bring a glass for Miss Perez. And another for me.
He turned to Isadora.
— Come with me, Isadora. I want to show you the library. Ruben needs to discuss a few contracts with people of his own age.
Isadora followed Alejandro, feeling Ximena's hateful gaze burning her back. Crossing the living room, she also saw Julian Vaca in a corner. He was watching her with a mixture of despair and disgust. He saw his muse being led away by the predator he feared so much, and he was powerless to do anything.
Once in the library, an immense room with walls lined with old books and modern artworks, Alejandro partially closed the door. Calm returned abruptly.
— Ximena is an idiot, he said, handing her a glass. She thinks the world stops at the limits of her bank account.
— She is only repeating what she was taught, Isadora replied, sitting on the edge of a mahogany desk. Ignorance of the outside world makes her cruel.
— And you? What makes you so sure of yourself? Did you know Lorenzo Figueroa would be here tonight?
Isadora's heart skipped a beat. She had not seen Lorenzo.
— No, I didn't know. But that changes nothing. Lorenzo is part of my past. A past necessary to understand that sincerity is a luxury few people in this circle can afford.
Alejandro approached her. He set down his glass and leaned against the desk, very close to her.
— Lorenzo is a fool. He let a woman like you slip away because of a mailing address. I, however, don't care where you come from, Isadora. What matters to me is where you want to go.
— You would be surprised by the answer, Mr. Jáuregui.
— Call me Alejandro. We have passed the stage of protocol, I think.
At that moment, the door opened to Camila. She looked distraught.
— Alejandro... Lorenzo is here. He is looking for Isadora. He looks... he has had too much to drink.
Isadora stood up with a start. Lorenzo Figueroa, her ex-boyfriend, was known for his fits of anger when he drank. If he made a scene here, her entire plan to appear distinguished would collapse.
— I will take care of it, Alejandro said, his gaze suddenly becoming hard.
— No, Isadora intervened, placing a hand on Alejandro's arm. It is my problem. If I don't face him now, he will remain a ghost haunting every one of my successes. Let me speak to him.
Alejandro observed her, weighing her determination. He finally nodded.
— Very well. But I will be right behind this door. If he raises his hand or insults you even once, he will not leave here on his own.
Isadora left the library to return to the living room. Lorenzo was there, standing near the fountain. He was as handsome as ever, with his fine features, but his gaze was blurred and his suit rumpled. Seeing her, he stepped forward, staggering slightly.
— Isadora... he murmured loudly enough for everyone to hear. What are you doing here? In that dress... you think you can fool everyone? You're just a mechanic's daughter playing with dolls!
Silence fell over the Jáuregui mansion. Ximena wore a triumphant smile. Luisa was about to intervene, but Isadora signaled for her to stay back.
Isadora approached Lorenzo until she was a few centimeters from him. She did not lower her eyes. She did not flush with shame.
— Lorenzo, she said in a calm, clear voice that carried to the back of the room. You are drunk and pathetic. The fact that my father is a mechanic does not make me an imposture. It makes me someone who knows the value of effort. What is an imposture is thinking that your last name gives you the right to disrespect your hosts and a woman you claimed to love and who owes you no explanation.
She turned toward the crowd, her green gaze sweeping the assembly with a majesty that left everyone speechless.
— Now, if you'll excuse me, I will not let a man's lack of conduct ruin this evening.
She returned to Alejandro who was standing at the entrance to the library. He had a satisfied smile. He gave a nod to two security guards who immediately approached Lorenzo to escort him toward the exit.
Ximena, disappointed to see that her plan had not worked, tried one last attack.
— It's easy to make grand speeches, but the truth always ends up coming out, Isadora.
Isadora stopped in front of her.
— The truth, Ximena, is that tonight, I am the guest of Alejandro Jáuregui, and you are only the daughter of his notary. Learn the difference.
With those words, she entered the library with Alejandro, leaving behind a stunned room.
Isadora had just transformed a potential humiliation into a demonstration of strength.
She was no longer just "the brilliant girl." She was the woman who had stood up to her past in front of all of Mexico City's elite.
— Impressive, Alejandro said, closing the door. You have a lot of courage.
— It wasn't courage, Alejandro. It was wit.
— They are often associated together; having wit also means not being afraid to say what you think. Therefore, a form of courage.
— In that case, I gladly accept the compliment, Isadora said.
Alejandro observed her in silence for a few seconds, as if he were trying to decipher a riddle for which he had just discovered the first key. He took a step toward her, reducing the space between them until Isadora could feel the warmth of his breath. He did not attempt to touch her, but his gaze dropped to the small silver feather pinned to her chest.
— This brooch... he said softly, it clashes with the rest. But it suits you better than any diamond.
Isadora felt her heart beat faster, but she did not flinch. She placed her fingers on her father's jewelry, as if to draw an invisible strength from it.
— It is my heritage, she said pensively.
An authentic smile, far from his usual mask of arrogance, briefly lit up Alejandro's face.