Chapter 17 - The shadow inside the walls
By midnight, the hacienda was locked down like a fortress. Private tactical guards hired by Alejandro patrolled the perimeter with flashlights and guard dogs, while the broken gates were barricaded with heavy steel maintenance trucks.
Lucía could not sleep. She walked down the long, silent corridor of the second floor, her soft slippers making no sound on the runner carpets. She carried the original family registry book from the cellar vault, studying the signatures under the soft amber hall sconces.
Something didn't add up.
If Vicente had planned this return for decades, why reveal himself now? Why wait until Camila was arrested and Lucía was restored as the rightful heir?
As she passed the private study near the east wing, she noticed a thin sliver of light beneath the door. Alejandro was downstairs coordinating with the private security team, and her mother had been given a mild sedative by the family doctor an hour ago.
Lucía crept closer.
From inside the study came the distinct, rhythmic rustle of paper being pulled from file cabinets, followed by the faint click of a smartphone camera shutter.
Lucía did not scream. She did not run. Instead, she reached into the display niche beside the doorway, quietly lifting a heavy bronze bookend shaped like an antique scales of justice. She turned the brass handle with agonizing slowness and pushed the heavy oak door open.
Sitting behind Alejandro’s personal desk was Hector Vargas—the family’s senior estate attorney, the very man who had managed the trust transfers for the past fifteen years. He had three thick manila envelopes spread across the blotter and was systematically photographing the private bank codes and power-of-attorney documents.
"Working late, Señor Vargas?" Lucía’s voice was as cold and sharp as winter glass.
Vargas violently flinched, dropping his phone onto the desk. He spun around, his silver hair disheveled, sweat glistening across his temples.
"Lucía!" he stammered, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "You... you startled me. I was just gathering the defense documents for the injunction hearing tomorrow."
"With the lights off?" Lucía stepped into the room, raising the heavy bronze bookend slightly. "And photographing private account routing numbers that have nothing to do with the court claim?"
May you like
Vargas’s eyes darted toward the open French doors leading out to the balcony.
"You don't understand the forces at play here, girl," Vargas whispered, his voice losing its professional polish and turning venomous. "You were happier when you were cleaning floors. You should have stayed dead."
