Chapter 3 - The Unraveling of the Alliance
Commander Vance signaled two officers, who immediately stepped forward and snapped heavy steel handcuffs around Adrián’s wrists. The sharp metallic click sounded like a death knell for the pristine illusion they had spent years constructing.
As Adrián was forced down onto his knees, his composure completely fractured. He twisted his head toward Ruby, panic turning his face into a mask of bitter betrayal.
“Ruby! Do something! You said your legal contacts in Madrid had the district attorney in their pocket!” Adrián shouted, thrashing against the officers.
Ruby’s face, usually a masterpiece of cold, calculated poise, twisted into an ugly snarl. She shoved Adrián away with a force that surprised everyone in the room. “Shut up, you idiot! If you hadn't been so arrogant—if you had just poisoned her quietly instead of making a spectacle of it at the will reading—none of this would have happened!”
“Ah,” Commander Vance noted, stepping closer to Ruby with a digital recording device in his hand. “Would you care to repeat that confession for the tribunal, Ms. Vance? Because our acoustic sensors picked up every word of your conversation from the moment you entered the estate tonight.”
Ruby froze. She looked down at the recorder, then slowly turned her gaze toward me. The mask of the untouchable heiress was completely gone, leaving behind only a desperate, cornered animal.
“You set me up,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You drank that wine knowing—”
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“I knew you couldn't resist the chance to play executioner,” I interrupted, my tone icy. “From the day my mother brought you into this house when I was twelve and you were ten, you treated survival as a blood sport. You learned how to cry on cue, how to manipulate the adults, and how to slide the knife in when no one was looking. But you never learned the oldest rule of the Salvatierra family: Never play a game where you don't own the board.”
Two female federal officers stepped forward. Ruby tried to lash out, her fingernails clawing at the air, but her movements were clumsy and uncoordinated with rage. They subdued her swiftly, clicking the handcuffs onto her wrists and pulling her away from the mahogany table where her grand victory had turned into her permanent cage.
