Chapter 3 - Ghosts of the Past
Panic rippled through the boardroom like wildfire. Verónica stood up abruptly, knocking her leather portfolio to the floor.
“This is a conspiracy! We are calling our attorneys—we are—”
“You aren't calling anyone,” Sophia said, gesturing to the door. Two local police officers stepped inside, holding a pair of heavy steel handcuffs. “Verónica Miller, you are being detained for corporate fraud, conspiracy, and the subornation of perjury regarding the staged theft of family heirlooms.”
As Verónica was led away, weeping and cursing, Mercedes turned her fury toward her son. “Do something! Don't just stand there letting them destroy everything your father built!”
“Speaking of your husband,” I said quietly, reaching into my leather folio and pulling out a small, highly encrypted digital audio player. “Let’s talk about how he actually died.”
The room went absolute, terrifyingly still.
Mercedes froze, her eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated horror. “Turn that off.”
“Why, Mercedes? Were you afraid people might find out the truth?” I pressed play.
The audio filled the cavernous boardroom, crystal clear despite being recorded three years ago. At first, there was the rustle of papers and the heavy ticking of an antique grandfather clock. Then, a voice spoke—a voice every person in that room recognized instantly. It was the voice of Julian Sterling, Álvaro’s father, who the family had publicly mourned after a sudden, tragic "stroke" at the estate.
“You’re bleeding the company dry, Mercedes,” Julian’s exhausted, gravelly voice echoed through the speakers. “And Álvaro is helping you hide it. If the board finds out about the offshore dummy accounts, we’ll all go to prison. I’m going to the federal prosecutor tomorrow morning.”
Then came Mercedes’s voice, cold and venomous: “No, Julian. You aren't going anywhere.”
A scuffle. A sharp gasp. And then silence.
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Álvaro stared at his mother, his whole body trembling violently. “Mom... what is that? What did you do?”
Mercedes slumped back into her chair, her mask of cold sophistication completely shattered. She looked old, broken, and cornered. The secret account, the fake bankruptcy, the forged medical reports of Julian’s death—it was all laid bare in front of the board, the auditors, and her son.
