Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Obsession and Deception How a Successful Mexican Businessman Committed Murder PART3 #2

Episode Date: November 7, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #truecrime #mexicanmurdercase #obsessionanddeception #darkcrimestories #crimeuncovered  Obsession and Deception Part 3 continues the shocking true story of a wealthy and respected Mexican businessman whose secret life of lies, jealousy, and manipulation spiraled into a brutal murder. This chapter uncovers deeper layers of betrayal, the unraveling of his carefully built image, and the devastating consequences for everyone entangled in his deadly obsession.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, truecrime, murdermystery, mexicanmurdercase, darksecrets, betrayal, deception, obsession, realcrime, shockingcases, crimeinvestigation, psychologyofcrime, thriller, realhorrorstories, obsessionanddeception

A Perfect Mask, A Deadly Secret Part 1, The Threat Beneath the Surface For months, Diana Serrano had lived with a nod in her stomach, the kind of constant tension that makes it impossible to breathe normally. At first, she thought it was just stress, stress from being a wife in a complicated marriage, stress from holding appearances together, stress from knowing things no one else knew.

But deep down she understood, the fear wasn't coming from inside her. It was coming from her husband, Yvonne Ladesma. Ivan had always been controlling, but recently that control had morphed into something more dangerous. Diana knew too much. She knew about his obsession with Sophia Rivas, the younger woman he couldn't get out of his head. She knew about his shady attempts to drag 19-year-old Lucia Gutierrez into his games, dangling money and favors like bait in front of a terrifying girl who only wanted to focus on her studies. And she knew how Ivan used emotional blackmail, threats, and power plays to silence anyone who resisted. That knowledge was heavy, heavier than any

secret she'd ever carried. She couldn't just sit on it anymore. She was terrified, not only for herself but for everyone Ivan was trying to pull into his toxic orbit. One afternoon, heart racing, Diana made a choice. She reached out quietly to Sophia and her boyfriend Adrienne, arranging a private meeting away from Avon's eyes. They met at a small cafe, one of those places where students hung out with laptops and endless cups of coffee. It was noisy enough to drown out conversations, which was exactly what Diana needed. She sat across from the young couple, her hands wrapped tightly over. around her cup, knuckles pale.

I need to tell you something, she whispered, leaning forward. Her voice cracked as she explained how Yvonne's obsession with Sophia had escalated, how he was pushing harder and harder, how he used both money and threats to keep everyone quiet. She begged them to understand the danger they were in, not just emotionally but physically. Sophia and Adrienne listened with wide eyes, their expressions shifting from shock to discomfort to fear. When Diana finally stopped, they reached for her hand and thanked her, sincerely,

but with that polite distance people use when they already know they're about to run the other way. Within days, they cut off contact with the Lodesmus. They stopped answering texts, stopped showing up at gatherings, stopped pretending this was just some weird phase. They wanted no part in it. When Yvonne found out about that conversation, something inside him snapped. The man who had always prided himself on control, on keeping his secrets under lock and key, exploded with rage. Diana had broken the unspoken rule of their marriage, silence. To him,

that was betrayal, worse than anything else she could have done. From that moment forward, Ivan watched her like a hawk. He checked her phone when she left it unattended. He monitored her calls. He even started tailing her around town, making excuses to, run into her, just to see where she was going. One day, while Diana was out shopping, he had technicians secretly install hidden cameras in their house, tiny devices tucked into corners, disguised as smoke detectors or decorative fixtures. He wanted eyes everywhere. Every move Diana made became data for him to analyze. Every sigh, every late-night phone call, every text message, he turned it all into ammunition

for his paranoia. And it didn't stop there. His obsession with Lucia grew darker. He increased the pressure, offering her more money, more privileges, more promises of an easy life if she just stayed quiet and played along. For a while, Lucia kept dodging him, making a while. excuses about exams or family commitments. But Yvonne was relentless, circling her like a predator that refused to let its prey escape. Meanwhile, Diana's emotional reserves were gone. She had endured

humiliation, manipulation, and constant tension for years. But now, with Yvonne's rage boiling over, with his monitoring turning their home into a prison, she reached her breaking point. One night, after pacing the living room until her legs ached, she decided it was over. She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't keep pretending to be the loyal wife, couldn't keep protecting Yvonne's reputation, couldn't keep swallowing the fear. She looked him straight in the eyes and said the word she had rehearsed a hundred times, I want a separation. Ivan laughed. Not a funny laugh, not even a bitter one. It was a cold, hollow sound that made Diana's blood run cold. You think you can walk away, he asked, voice low, almost amused. You think you can ruin me like that?

Because that's how he saw it, not as a marriage ending, but as an attack on his image. Diana wasn't asking for freedom. In his mind, she was threatening his entire existence. She told him she was ready to go to the authorities, that she had proof of his attempts to manipulate Lucia, that she wouldn't stay silent while he destroyed more lives. She wasn't bluffing. She had already begun gathering documents, screenshots, little pieces of evidence she planned to hand to her lawyer. Ivan's face went blank. To Diana, it looked like shock. To Ivan, it was revelation.

At that moment, he knew he couldn't allow it. Divorce was unacceptable. Public exposure was unthinkable. In a city like Guadalajara, where society was conservative and tight-knit, a scandal like that would destroy him, not just socially, but financially. His business partners, his clients, his entire network depended on his reputation as a respectable man. So, in the twisted logic of Ivan's mind, only one option remains. remained. If Diana wanted to ruin him, she had to disappear. Not by accident, not by chance,

by design. But Yvonne wasn't impulsive. He prided himself on strategy, on meticulous planning. If he was going to do this, it wouldn't be sloppy. It would be perfect, the kind of crime that pointed in every direction but his own. And that's when his mind locked onto the Perfect Scapegoat, Adrian Lamele. Part 2, Building the Perfect Scapegoat. Yvonne Le Desma wasn't the type to get his hands dirty right away. No, he was far too calculated for that. He had spent years cultivating an image, the charming businessman, the man with connections,

the perfect husband who donated at charity events and showed up at gala's in a tailored suit. People believed in that version of him. and he wasn't about to let Diana or anyone else tear it down. So he started to think like a strategist. If Diana ended up dead, someone had to take the fall. Someone convincing, someone with just enough tension in the story to make it believable. That's when he remembered his rocky history with Adrienne Lamelli, the young professor who, in Yvonne's mind, had always been too close to both Sophia and Diana. Ivan hated the way Diana looked more relaxed when Adrienne was around, the way she seemed comfortable enough to laugh freely in his presence.

It didn't matter that nothing had ever happened between them, Ivan had convinced himself that Adrian was a threat, and in his twisted imagination, he decided to make Adrian the threat. The plan was brilliant in its cruelty. Ivan began planting seeds. He sent himself anonymous emails written in a dramatic tone, making it look like Adrienne was confessing feelings for Diana and lashing out at Yvonne 4, stealing her away. He doctored text messages, manipulating timestamps and saving screenshots that, at a glance, seemed genuine. At the same time, he staged public encounters. At cocktail parties, luncheons, even casual neighborhood barbecues, he'd make sly comments within earshot of acquaintances, comments like,

Diana's been a little distant lately. I think that Professor Friend of hers is filling her head with nonsense. Most people brushed it off, but gossip works like kindling, all it takes is a spark. In private, Yvonne cornered Diana with accusations. You think I don't see the way you look at him, he hissed one evening after she came home from visiting a friend. You think people aren't talking. Diana was stunned. She barely spoke to Adrienne anymore.

After warning him in Sophia, she distanced herself completely. But Ivan wasn't looking for truth, he was writing a script. And in his script, Adrian was the jealous lover who would one day snap. For weeks, Ivan layered this fiction over reality like paint over a cracked wall. He dropped hints into conversations, created digital evidence, and even engineered situations where Diana and Adriane appeared in the same place, just so he could later say, look, see. They were together again. Meanwhile, Diana's instincts told her something was horribly wrong. She couldn't pinpoint it, but she felt watched, hunted. She confided in a few close friends,

telling them she didn't recognize her husband anymore. It's like he's two people, she said. The Yvonne everyone sees in public, and the Yvonne I live with at home. And the one at home, he scares me. Sadly, people didn't take her as seriously as they should have. Some told her she was stressed, others suggested therapy or a vacation. A few nodded sympathetically but didn't really believe Yvonne was capable of something truly dangerous. After all, wasn't he that generous guy who sponsored scholarships and smiled for the newspaper

cameras? Diana's fear only deepened. She began quietly collecting her own evidence, not of infidelity, but of danger. She wrote down dates, saved suspicious receipts she found in Avon's office, even hit a small USB drive where she stored photos of the surveillance cameras she discovered around the house. Her plan was simple, leave. Leave the house, leave the marriage, and hand everything over to her lawyer. It wasn't going to be easy. Yvonne had money, influence, and a vindictive streak, but she believed the truth would protect her.

Unfortunately, she underestimated just how far Yvonne was willing to go. By mid-October 2011, Yvonne's plan was fully formed. He wasn't going to rely on rage or chance. He would engineer the perfect crime, one that looked like a robbery gone wrong, with just enough passion mixed in to frame Adrian as the obvious suspect. He found the man who would do the dirty work, Juan Pablo Montero. One Pablo was a thug, the kind of man who drifted in and out of petty crime, with enough of a record to prove he wasn't a stranger to violence. Ivan offered him money, more than one Pablo had ever seen in one place, in exchange for one job, make it look like a robbery, but may be a

make sure Diana never walked out alive. One Pablo didn't ask too many questions. Money was money. As the date drew closer, Diana felt her anxiety skyrocket. She started leaving little clues with friends, offhand comments like, If anything happens to me, it's Ivan. People laughed nervously, thinking she was exaggerating, but she wasn't joking. She knew she was running out of time.

Still, she tried to act normal. She smiled at parties, helped organize a family dinner, and even agreed to accompany Yvonne to a business event, all while quietly planning her escape. She decided October 24th would be the day she packed her bags and left for good. But Yvonne had chosen October 23rd. That night, the city of Guadalajara sparkled under a crisp autumn sky. The upper-class crowd buzzed with Life in Providencia, one of the most prestigious neighborhoods. Yvonne showed up at the exclusive business club looking polished, laughing with colleagues, shaking hands, sipping expensive whiskey.

He was careful, very careful, to make sure everyone saw him. He even told multiple people he'd be staying late, just to solidify his alibi. Back at the Ledesma residence, Diana was alone. She sat in the living room, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. She had already pulled out a small suitcase, tucked in the corner of the bedroom. Tomorrow, she'd leave. Tonight, she just had to make it through the darkness. Around 10.30 p.m., the doorbell rang.

Diana hesitated. Who would come this late? Maybe a neighbor, maybe a friend, she opened the door without suspecting a thing. thing. A man in a hood stood there. He didn't say a word. He shoved her back into the house, slammed the door behind him, and everything descended into chaos. Part 3, the night everything shattered. The moment Juan Pablo shoved her inside, Diana knew this wasn't a robbery gone wrong, it was a nightmare she had sensed coming all along. She tried to scream, but the man was fast, fast. He pressed his hand hard against her mouth, the other gripping her arms so tightly

it felt like it would snap. He wasn't sloppy. He wasn't nervous. He moved like someone who had rehearsed. Diana's heart pounded as she struggled. She clawed at him, tried to kick, but he was bigger, stronger. He shoved her against the floor, pulling out a rough rope he'd tucked into his jacket. Within seconds her wrists were tied, her ankles bound. Please, she tried to plead, her voice muffled, but he didn't even acknowledge her as a person. To him, she was just a job, a paycheck. One Pablo's eyes scanned the room, cold and methodical. He knew exactly what to take.

He opened drawers, picked up the jewelry of On had told him about, pocketed electronics, and even tossed a few things. things on the ground to make the scene look chaotic. He wasn't stealing at random, he was following instructions. Diana realized then, Yvonne had planned this. That knowledge hit her harder than the shove, harder than the rope burning against her skin. The man she had shared her life with, the man she had once loved, had orchestrated this moment. Her fear turned into a mix of anger and heartbreak.

anger wasn't going to save her. She twisted against the rope, tried to loosen the knot, but Juan Pablo was watching. He grabbed the thick cord, looped it around her neck, and with terrifying calm, pulled tight. Diana gasped, fought, her body jerking violently as she tried to break free. But the more she fought, the tighter it grew. Her vision blurred. Her lungs burned. Her legs kicked uselessly again.

against the floor. Within minutes, the house was silent again. Juan Pablo checked her pulse. Nothing. Just as he had been told to do, he left the rope in place, staged a few more objects around the house to look like a struggle, and walked out, leaving the front door ajar. It was meant to scream, robbery gone wrong. Hours later, Yvonne arrived home. He parked his car carefully, adjusted his tie in the rearview mirror, and rehearsed the expression he needed, shock, despair, outrage. He couldn't look too calm, but he also couldn't look guilty. He had to thread the needle of grief and anger. As he walked up to the house, he noticed the door was open, exactly as it should be.

He stepped inside, letting out a staged gasp. Diana, he called, voice trembling. Silence. He moved through the rooms, deliberately raising his voice, knowing neighbors might hear him. Diana, are you here? And then he saw her. Her body lay lifeless on the floor, the rope still around her neck. For a split second, Yvonne's mask slipped, something like satisfaction.

flickered across his face. But he quickly replaced it with horror. He stumbled back, clutching his chest, and yelled, loud enough for anyone within earshot, no, no, Dios meo, no. Neighbors soon gathered, some cautiously stepping closer to the open door. One woman gasped and screamed, another dialed the police. Within minutes, the scene was flooded with sirens, flashing lights and uniformed officers. Yvonne played his part well. He shouted questions at the officers, who had done this. Had they caught the bastard?

Why would anyone hurt Diana? He even collapsed dramatically into a chair, holding his head in his hands. The police, at least initially, treated him as a grieving husband. They noticed the broken drawers, the missing valuables, the signs of four. forced entry. Everything screamed, violent robbery. But something about the scene felt too, neat. Detective Morales, one of the investigators, studied the living room with narrowed eyes. Strange, he muttered to his partner. Usually in robberies, they grab anything they can. This one looks selective. Too selective. Still, no one was ready to accuse

Yvonne. He was a respected man, a familiar face in Guadalajara's elite circles. Instead, suspicion drifted elsewhere. And right on cue, Yvonne began to point them in the direction he wanted, Adrian. The next day, as condolences poured in, Yvonne was the picture of tragedy. He wore black, accepted hugs, spoken hushed, broken tones. But behind closed doors, he was already pulling strings. He dropped Adrian's name casually into conversations with the police. You know, Diana had mentioned feeling, pressured by him. I never wanted to believe it, but, well, you never really know people, do you?

He showed them doctored messages, screenshots that seemed to reveal a jealous, unstable man obsessed with Diana. He leaned into the idea of a love triangle gone wrong. And the timing worked in his favor. Gossip spread quickly through their social circles. People remembered Ivan's earlier comments, his subtle hints at Adrian being too close to Diana. They connected dots that weren't really there.

Did you hear, someone whispered at a funeral gathering. Apparently Diana was going to leave Ivan, maybe for Adrienne. Really? That professor. I always thought, he was odd. Who knows, but the police are looking at him now. The rumor mill had done its job. Adrian and Sophia, meanwhile, were horrified. They had already distanced themselves from Diana for fear of Ivan's wrath, and now they found themselves tangled in his narrative. Audrian was questioned,

scrutinized, treated like a suspect. His career, his marriage, his reputation, all of All of it was suddenly hanging by a threat. Sophia, terrified, begged him to stay quiet, but Adrienne couldn't. I didn't do this, he told anyone who would listen. I cared about Diana, but not like that. Ivan. Ivan is behind this. But who was going to believe a young professor over a wealthy businessman with influence and connections?

The trap had been sprung, and Adrian was right. right where Yvonne wanted him, at the center of suspicion. Meanwhile, Diana's family was shattered. Her mother wept uncontrollably, her siblings demanded justice. They wanted answers, but every answer they got seemed to circle back to the same tragic story, a robbery, maybe fueled by passion, may be connected to a jealous admirer. And Yvonne. He stood tall at her funeral, tears in his eyes, hand-pressed,

dramatically to his chest as mourner surrounded him. He hugged people tightly, whispered about how unfair life was, about how much he had loved Diana. Inside, though, he was calm. He believed he had pulled it off. He had eliminated his wife, protected his reputation, and neatly handed the police their suspect. What he didn't realize was that small cracks were already forming in his carefully painted facade. Because lies, no matter how polished, have a way of unraveling. Part 4. Cracks in the Mask At first, everything went according to Yvonne's design.

The police leaned toward the robbery theory, and the whispers about Adrian only fueled the idea of a jealous outsider. Yvonne felt confident, too confident. But investigations are like slow-moving storms, quiet at first, then devastating when they hit. Detective Morales, the one who had raised an eyebrow the night of the murder, wasn't letting go. Something about the scene had been nagging at him. The valuables that had been taken. They weren't random.

Expensive artwork was untouched, cash hidden in a drawer hadn't been touched. Instead, it was jewelry and electronic. items easy to identify if Diana's family ever pointed them out. It felt staged. Morales also noticed Yvonne's behavior. Yes, he cried, but his tears came too quickly, too perfectly timed. He asked too many questions about whether the police had caught someone yet, almost as if he wanted them to rush to pin it on someone else.

And then there was the rope. Forensics had determined it wasn't just any rope, it had come from inside the Lodesma household. A thick cord normally used to secure outdoor furniture. If this had been a random burglar, how did he know where to find it so quickly? Why use that instead of bringing his own weapon? These small inconsistencies began to form a picture in Morales's mind, though he kept it to himself for the time being. Meanwhile, Adriane's life was falling apart. He had been placed under informal surveillance.

His colleagues at the university looked at him with suspicion, students whispered, and Sophia felt the strain tearing their marriage apart. She loved him, but the constant police questions, the sideways glances, the humiliation, it was too much. One night, she broke down. Adrian, what if, what if they don't believe you? What if Ivan really wins? Adrian grabbed her hands, his voice desperate but steady. Then I'll fight. Because I didn't do this.

And one day, the truth will come out. But even he wasn't sure how much longer he could take it. The turning point came from someone Ivan hadn't considered, Diana herself. In the weeks before her death, she had confided in a close friend, leaving behind voice messages and emails where she clearly said she feared for her life. In one particularly chilling message, she stated, If something happens to me, it won't be an accident. It will be a vaughan. Please don't let him get away with it.

When this friend finally broke down and brought the evidence to the police, Morales felt a jolt of confirmation. Here it was, the voice of the victim herself, practically naming her killer. Still, it wasn't enough for an arrest. Ivan was powerful, well-connected. They needed something undeniable. The break came from a sloppy mistake, not by Ivan, but by Juan Pablo Montero, the hitman. Montero had been careful, but not invisible. Surveillance cameras from a nearby street had caught a man.

man matching his description walking away from the Ladesma home around the time of the murder. His face wasn't clear, but his build and walk were distinctive. When the footage was enhanced and cross-checked against known offenders, Montero's name popped up. He had a record. He had ties to shady jobs. And suddenly, the idea of a random robbery didn't look so random anymore. Police brought him in. At first, he started. He started to stone walled, pretending ignorance. But under pressure, and facing the possibility of decades behind bars, he cracked. He didn't give them the full confession at once, but the pieces slipped out, he had been hired. He hadn't chosen that house randomly. He hadn't chosen those

items randomly. And though he never spoke Yvonne's name directly, the implication was clear. Someone wealthy, someone close, had orchestrated it. When Morales finally confronted Yvonne with these findings, the mask began to slip. Ivan scoffed, then grew angry. He accused the detectives of incompetence, of wasting time harassing him instead of finding the real killer. He even threatened to use his connections to have Morales removed from the case. But the harder he pushed, the more suspicious he looked. His polished image was cracking under the weight of scrutiny.

Reporters began circling like vultures. What had once been whispered rumors now made headlines. Was Diana Serrano's death really a robbery? Read one local paper. Shocking new evidence points to foul play in high society murder. Guadalajara, conservative and image conscious, was buzzing with scandal. Cocktail parties turned into rumor millers. Mills. People who had once shaken Ivan's hand warmly now avoided eye contact, unsure whether he was a grieving widower or a cold-blooded killer. The final straw came when investigators

pulled data from Ivan's phone. Despite his attempts to delete, fragments of incriminating messages remained, arrangements for meetings, odd financial transfers, veiled notes about, handling the problem. It wasn't a smoking gun by itself, but combined with the Montero's partial confession, Diana's warnings, and the forensic inconsistencies, it painted a damning picture. Ivan was no longer above suspicion. He was now the prime suspect. The arrest was quiet but seismic.

One morning, as Ivan prepared to leave his home, dressed immaculately as always, police cars pulled up. Morales himself was there, flanked by officers. Ivan Ladesma, Morales said, voice steady, you are under arrest for the murder of your wife, Diana Serrano. For a moment, Ivan looked stunned, as if the world had betrayed him. Then his expression hardened, and he forced a cold smile. This is a mistake.

You'll regret this. But as they led him away in handcuffs, the cameras flashed, and Guadalajara finally saw the truth. The man they had once admired was now accused of orchestrating his own wife's murder. The trial that followed would drag on, filled with twists, denials, and revelations. But even before the verdict, the damage was done. The illusion of Ivan's perfect life had shattered, exposing the darkness he had tried so desperately to hide. And in the end, Diana's voice, her warnings, her courage in the face of fear, was what pierced through the eyes.

Guadalajara would never forget the scandal, the betrayal, the crime that turned whispers into headlines. And Yvonne LaDesma, no matter what he claimed, would forever be remembered not as a businessman, but as the man who tried to bury his sins beneath the mask of respectability, and failed. To be continued.