Chapter 4 - The War for the Dynasty
News travels fast in the tight-knit, ultra-wealthy enclaves of San Pedro Garza García.
By noon that same day, word had reached the glass-and-steel headquarters of the Garza Group. Isabela Garza—the woman Don Roberto had once tried to force Santiago to marry—sat in her corner office, staring at a high-resolution photograph sent by a society columnist.
The photo showed Santiago Villaseñor leaving Hospital Ángeles holding hands with two young girls who bore an unmistakable resemblance to him, accompanied by a pale, beautiful woman in simple clothes.
Isabela’s eyes narrowed into slits. For five years, she had served as a senior director on the board of Villaseñor Global, holding a seven-percent stake in the company. She had waited patiently for Santiago to give up his bachelorhood and unite their two fortunes.
Within an hour, Isabela called an emergency meeting of the Villaseñor Global Board of Directors.
When Santiago arrived at the corporate headquarters at three o'clock that afternoon, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit, he walked into a board room filled with twelve of Mexico’s most powerful investors.
Isabela stood at the head of the conference table, holding a dossier.
"Santiago," Isabela said smoothly, her voice dripping with artificial concern. "We called this emergency session because rumors are circulating in the financial press. There are reports that you are preparing to recognize two illegitimate children born to an unregistered freelance worker."
Santiago didn't sit down. He stood at the foot of the table, resting his hands casually on the back of a leather chair.
"They are not illegitimate, Isabela," Santiago said coldly. "They are my daughters. Lucía and Renata Villaseñor."
"This presents a severe reputational and governance risk to the upcoming European bond issue," Isabela argued, turning to the other board members. "If this woman attempts to claim back-dated child support or sue the estate of Don Roberto, our stock price will plummet. The board demands that you require a formal, court-mandated paternity test before making any public statements or transferring any trust equity."
The room went quiet. Several older board members, former allies of Santiago’s late father, nodded in silent agreement.
Santiago slowly pulled a leather folder from his briefcase and tossed it onto the center of the table.
"Inside that folder," Santiago announced, his voice reverberating through the soundproofed glass, "is a certified genomic report completed four hours ago at Hospital Ángeles using an expedited panel. Paternity is confirmed at 99.99%."
Isabela stiffened.
"Furthermore," Santiago continued, leaning forward, his eyes burning with absolute authority, "effective at four o'clock today, I am executing my personal option to buy out the Garza Group’s seven-percent stake in Villaseñor Global at ten percent above market value. My legal team has already transferred the escrow funds."
Isabela turned pale. "You can't do that! That option required board approval—"
"The option was written into my father's original corporate charter," Santiago interrupted ruthlessly. "I now control eighty-two percent of this company. If anyone else in this room has a problem with my daughters taking their rightful place as the sole heirs to the Villaseñor estate, you have until five o'clock to submit your resignations."
Not a single board member moved.
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Santiago picked up his briefcase, buttoned his jacket, and looked directly at Isabela.
"Good day, Isabela," he said softly. "Don't ever speak about my family again."
