Chapter 4 - The Sanctuary of Santa Fe
An hour later, a heavily armored black Maybach glided out of the underground parking garage of Sterling Financial Group, flanked by two security SUVs.
Inside the quiet, leather-scented interior of the executive limousine, Benji was sitting between Lorenzo and Irene, staring in absolute awe at the starry roof lights and the private television screen built into the center console.
"Mommy, look!" Benji giggled, pressing his face against the dark tinted window as Mexico City’s skyscrapers blurred past. "The car has tiny stars on the ceiling!"
Irene offered a gentle, tired smile, smoothing Benji’s unruly hair. She was wearing a soft, luxurious cashmere sweater that Lorenzo had ordered his assistant to buy for her before they left the tower, replacing her starch-stiff janitorial uniform.
She looked at Lorenzo, who was sitting across from them. He hadn't stopped looking at her and Benji for a single second since they got into the vehicle. His dark eyes were filled with an intense, fierce devotion that made Irene’s heart flutter in a way she hadn't felt in five long years.
"Where are you taking us, Lorenzo?" Irene asked softly.
"To my estate in San Ángel," Lorenzo replied, his voice rich and gentle. "It's fully gated, with twenty-four-hour private security. Hugo and his associates won't be able to get anywhere near you or Benji."
Irene hesitated, looking down at her hands. "Lorenzo... I don't know if this is right. My life is so different from yours now. I live in a two-room apartment in Tepito. I wash my clothes in a plastic tub. I don't belong in a mansion."
Lorenzo moved from his seat, kneeling on the plush carpet floor of the Maybach right in front of her. He took both of her hands into his broad palms, lifting them to his lips and pressing a tender kiss against her calloused knuckles.
"Don't ever say that again, Irene," Lorenzo murmured, looking up into her eyes with deep emotion. "Everything I built—the money, the estate, the corporate power—meant absolutely nothing without you. I lived in a museum of cold stone for five years. You and Benji are my home."
Tears shimmered in Irene’s dark eyes. "I missed you so much, Lorenzo. Every single night, when I put Benji to sleep, I would look at his face and see you. It broke my heart every single day."
"The pain is over, my love," Lorenzo promised, squeezing her hands firmly. "I swear to you, from this day forward, you will never scrub another floor, you will never worry about rent, and you will never face this world alone."
The Maybach turned onto a winding, tree-lined avenue in the exclusive district of San Ángel, stopping before massive wrought-iron gates that opened automatically into a grand, private estate.
When the car pulled up to the entrance of the towering Spanish-style villa, a team of private staff stood in a respectful line near the fountain.
Lorenzo stepped out of the car, extending his hand to guide Irene out, before scooping Benji onto his shoulder. Benji gasped in delight, holding onto Lorenzo’s dark hair as he looked up at the towering villa.
"Is this a castle, Mommy?" Benji whispered loudly.
"It's your home, Benji," Lorenzo smiled, turning his head to nuzzle his son's cheek, causing the boy to burst into infectious, ringing laughter.
Inside the estate, Lorenzo’s private medical team was waiting in the study. A fast-tracked, elite DNA testing service had been summoned to officially process the legal paternity documents required to restore Benji’s true surname and legal status as the sole heir to the Santillán estate.
After a gentle mouth swab was performed on Benji, the chief physician smiled warmly at Lorenzo. "We will have the formal court-certified results in two hours, Mr. Santillán, though I doubt anyone in this room needs a lab test to see the truth."
While the staff prepared a feast of fresh Oaxacan dishes in the grand dining room, Lorenzo led Benji up the grand curved staircase to a massive, sunlit bedroom suite overlooking the private gardens and swimming pool.
The room had been transformed in less than two hours by Lorenzo’s staff into a paradise for a four-year-old boy—filled with wooden train sets, giant stuffed animals, painting easels, and shelves of children's books.
Benji let out a scream of pure joy, dropping his old blue metal car onto the rug as he sprinted toward a massive wooden train track set up in the center of the room.
"Do you like it, son?" Lorenzo asked softly, leaning against the doorframe beside Irene.
"I love it!" Benji cheered, driving a tiny wooden engine along the tracks. "Look, Mommy! A train!"
Irene leaned her head against Lorenzo’s shoulder. "You're going to spoil him, Lorenzo."
"I have five years of lost birthdays, Christmases, and hugs to make up for," Lorenzo whispered, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her close against his side. "I intend to spoil both of you for the rest of my life."
Suddenly, Gabriel stepped quietly into the hallway behind them, his face serious. He caught Lorenzo’s eye and gave a subtle nod.
Lorenzo gently patted Irene’s shoulder. "Stay here with Benji for a moment, my love. I need to take care of a quick legal matter with Gabriel."
"Is everything okay?" Irene asked, a flicker of worry in her eyes.
"Everything is under control," Lorenzo reassured her, kissing her cheek softly before stepping into the corridor.
Down in the private library, Gabriel closed the heavy oak doors and handed Lorenzo a secure tablet.
"The DNA test results came back from the lab, sir," Gabriel reported. "A 99.99% biological match. Benjamín is your legal son."
Lorenzo held the paper, staring at his son's name printed next to his own. A profound sense of completeness washed over his soul.
"And Hugo?" Lorenzo asked, his tone darkening.
"Hugo’s legal team posted bail twenty minutes ago through a crooked judge in the district court," Gabriel warned, his voice tight. "He is currently at his private residence. Our intelligence team indicates he is frantically attempting to wire two hundred million dollars from Sterling’s offshore reserves to a bank in the Cayman Islands before the emergency board meeting tonight."
May you like
Lorenzo’s dark eyes flashed with lethal resolve.
"Call the board of directors," Lorenzo commanded, stepping toward his desk. "Tell them the emergency session will be held at midnight in the corporate boardroom. It's time to put an end to my uncle's tyranny once and for all."
