“Let’s get to the car. Now,” he ordered firmly, yet with a gentleness Valentina didn’t expect. He helped her up; she was so weak she nearly collapsed into his arms.
Inside the vehicle, with the heater blasting, the reality of the situation began to settle in. Valentina couldn’t stop staring at the girls with a mix of protective instinct and total confusion.
“I was supposed to get married today,” she whispered, breaking the silence. “Ricardo… my fiancé… left me a note. He said he couldn’t go on and that I had to take care of them. I found a birth certificate with my name on it, but I swear to God I’ve never given birth. I had never seen these babies until an hour ago.”
Santiago watched her through the rearview mirror. His instincts told him she was telling the truth. There was a raw sincerity in her desperation. But the story made no sense. Who abandons a bride and leaves her with two newborns that aren’t hers?
“My name is Santiago Restrepo,” he said softly. “I’m not going to leave you alone in this. We’re going to my apartment. They need warmth, food, and safety before we can solve this puzzle.”
Valentina nodded, exhausted. When they arrived at Santiago’s luxurious penthouse in El Poblado, the dynamic changed. The cold, distant businessman disappeared, replaced by someone who moved with surprising ease, warming bottles and searching for dry towels.
