Chapter 3 - The Fragile HavenDiego’s apartment was located on the third floor of a weathered brick building on the east side of the city. It was modest, clean, and filled with signs of a loving father: Sofia’s colorful drawings pinned to the refrigerator, a small shelf of children's books, and the gentle scent of lemon cleaner and cinnamon.
Diego helped Valentina onto the small fabric couch, propping her wrapped ankle on a soft pillow. He brought her a pair of oversized sweatpants and a fresh cotton shirt belonging to his late wife.
"It’s clean," Diego said, setting the clothes beside her with utmost respect. "I'll let you get changed."
When Valentina changed out of her ruined designer clothes into the simple cotton garments, an unfamiliar sense of peace washed over her. For years, her life had been defined by sharp silk suits, rigid schedules, and cutthroat negotiations. Here, surrounded by inexpensive wooden furniture and handmade decorations, the air felt light.
Diego made simple chicken soup for dinner. As they sat at the small kitchen table, Sofia chattered endlessly about her school art project, occasionally pausing to ensure Valentina was eating.
"Daddy makes the best soup when people are sad," Sofia declared proudly, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
Valentina smiled, a genuine laugh bubbling from her chest for the first time in months. "He certainly does, Sofia."
When Sofia went to bed, Diego sat across from Valentina with two mugs of black coffee. "You haven't told me who you really are, Valentina. But I know you're not just a corporate worker."
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Valentina looked down at the mug. "If I tell you, it might put you in danger. The people I am fighting are powerful and ruthless."
Diego looked toward his daughter's bedroom door, his jaw tightening. "I’ve spent my life protecting people for minimum wage. I know what dangerous men look like. But no one hurts a guest in my home."
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