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My mind raced in disbelief. What was Francisco doing here?
This event was meant for the company and its charitable endeavors, not for family members with questionable intentions.
My initial shock turned into a gnawing sense of concern and suspicion. As our eyes met, a tension-filled moment passed between us.
Beside me, Antonio's expression mirrored my shock. Our unspoken exchange confirmed that this was unexpected and unsettling.
Francisco's presence here raised more questions than answers, and I couldn't help but wonder what his motives were.
This event was meant to celebrate the company's efforts to give back, not to become a stage for family politics and hidden agendas.
My fists clenched involuntarily as anger surged within me. How dare Francisco soil this event, tarnishing the tradition that my father had upheld for years?
What was he planning by showing up uninvited? The audacity of his actions ignited a fiery flame of fury in me.
I furrowed my brows, thinking deeply as I contemplated Francisco's potential motives. His presence was a disruption.
I couldn't shake the feeling that his ulterior motives, more than anything else, unsettled me.
Antonio, sensing my anger and frustration, approached me discreetly.
"Do you want me to handle Francisco?" he asked in a low voice, his gaze fixed on the unwelcome guest.
I hesitated, weighing my options. While some of me wanted to remove Francisco from the event swiftly, I knew such a move could draw even more attention and potentially lead to a scene.
I shook my head slightly, my jaw set in determination.
"No," I replied quietly, my voice firm. "I don't want to make a scene, but keep an eye on him. I want to know every move he makes and every interaction he has.Qualcosa non va (Somethings wrong)."
Antonio nodded in understanding, his expression serious. "Inteso (Understood).”
As the event continued, I shifted from the celebrations to Francisco's presence.
I couldn't shake the feeling that he had some hidden agenda, something beyond mere coincidence.
Whatever it was, I was determined to uncover the truth and ensure that his plans, whatever they may be, wouldn't jeopardize the charitable event.
My attention was suddenly drawn to a scene that intensified the knot of anger in my stomach. There was Francisco, chatting with Sophia.
The wave of anger that crashed into me was tremendous, and I marveled at my self-control for not storming over and yanking my uncle away from her.
They appeared engaged in casual conversation, wearing smiles that only fueled my frustration.
My mind raced with conflicting thoughts. Was Sophia truly working for my uncle?
But then, I questioned why they would openly expose their cooperation for me to see.
Maybe she didn't recognize Francisco as my uncle crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it.
It was unlikely, especially given the lengths she had gone to extract information from my laptop. A fact she still does not have a clue I know about.
As I observed from a distance, the puzzle pieces eluded me. Was this yet another scheme to trick me off guard and deceive me?
My thoughts were in chaos as I tried to make sense of the situation, to decipher the dynamics between them.
My attention sharpened as I saw Francisco lean in closer to Sophia, and her expression shifted from polite engagement to surprise and discomfort.
It was a subtle change, but I had grown adept at reading people's expressions, especially Sophia’s, with how long I’d been observing.
