Valentine is a special date. For some, the perfect excuse to demonstrate their love with grandiloquent gestures; For others, an opportunity to avoid photographers with the skill of a cold war spy. Íñigo Onieva, with his infallible instinct for discretion and his innate ability to go unnoticed, opted on February 14 for the second option. While Griñón’s Marquise was excited on Instagram with dedications worthy of a novel by Corín Tellado, her husband, mysterious as a character of Agatha Christie, embarked on a night adventure that would end with a disturbing question: what did Íñigo do in the hotel NH Collection Eurobuilding for three hours and without tamara?
Three hours in the limbo of love
The Íñigo itinerary that night seems taken from the script of a spy film, but with less glamor and more hotel garage. First, he left his home with the meticulousness of those who prepare to execute a secret mission. In the midst of everything they say that he made a strategic stop at Isabel Preysler’s house, presumably to recharge energies with a canopy well placed by the mother -in -law. But the interesting thing came later: after misleading the press with the skill of an illusionist he entered the Eurobuilding, where he entered at 22:00 and was seen going out at one o’clock in the morning. There are photos.
Here multiple hypotheses are opened. Maybe I needed a moment of introspection, an express spiritual retreat in the hotel parking. It may be testing the comfort of the armchairs of the lobby or, simply, to be lost trying to find the exit. Because what is clear is that I was not with Tamara, although Marquesa said yes, that everything was in order and that they had dinner together, but in a restaurant that – almost – is a few meters from the hotel, although without any need to pass For him. Such a convenient coincidence that can only be explained through the laws of quantum mechanics.
The art of dodging paparazzis … or calling your attention
The official narrative is that Íñigo spent 35 minutes fleeing photographers as if they were in a mission persecution: impossible. “Do not bring press,” Tamara had asked him, in an almost Shakesperian plea. And he, as a good gentleman, decided to take the request to the letter …
The funny thing is that, at the end of all this odyssey, it ended up having dinner with Tamara (she says she) and some friends in Sacha, a restaurant that, although next to the Eurobuilding, does not require stopping in a luxury hotel. But Íñigo, always innovative, decided to take an unexpected turn to tradition and turn Valentine into a gymkana. Because, of course, when someone wants to avoid the press, the logical thing is to turn more than a disoriented satellite in orbit.
A hotel with many options … and no explanation
The NH Collection Eurobuilding is not a simple hotel. It is a microcosm of possibilities. It has more than 400 rooms, a spa where one can relax the stress accumulated by the weight of the last name Falcó, a gym where to burn the nerves with a little cardio and four restaurants, including the famous divex of Dabiz Muñoz, ideal for a Lonely dinner with three company Michelin.
Was it Íñigo to enjoy a solo dinner? Was he tempted by the enchants of the spa? Did you need to reflect on the meaning of life in the tranquility of a parking lot? The truth is that, after three hours of intense meditation – or whatever he was doing -, emerged from the hotel with a distracted air, the lost look and an epic yawn, like the one who has just solved a complicated philosophical enigma.
Tamara, the romantic spin-off queen
Meanwhile, Tamara Falcó, unwavering in her role as a romantic heroin of metoverso, went out to defend the official version with the conviction of those who have seen too many films by Richard Curtis. “We had dinner together,” insisted the wife of the King of Burning Man, that wild festival of Nevada where Íñigo Onieva kissed a woman who was Tamara.
Now, Onieva’s wife repeats that she had dinner with him, as if the phrase, repeated enough times, could erase the graphic tests of the enigmatic night of her husband. But doubt persists: if everything was so normal, why so much scandal?
And then there is the small detail of Íñigo’s publication on social networks. Days after this incident, he shared an image of a dinner at Sacha … but not the Valentine’s Day, but one of a week ago. Is it a simple chronological error or a maneuver of a confusion teacher? Because, of course, the most natural thing in the world is to post a dinner seven days late when your name is on everyone’s lips.
Íñigo Onieva is a man of many talents: entrepreneur, exemplary husband, improvised fugitive and, now, the protagonist of a thriller that neither Hitchcock would have dared to write. The plot is worthy of a series of Netflix, a company that his political family already knows: a man alone in a hotel the night of Valentine, a wife who ensures that everything is fine, an army of paparazzi documenting each movement and a handful of unanswered questions.
