Chapter 3 - The Gathering Storm
Dawn broke over Valle de Bravo, painting the surface of the glassy lake in shades of bruised purple and molten gold. I stood on the wooden veranda, sipping black coffee while watching Luna and Sol chase a stray butterfly across the dew-soaked lawn. They were wearing fresh clothes I had hurriedly ordered online and had delivered via express courier late last night—oversized yellow sweaters that made them look like two little sunbeams against the dark pines.
My phone buzzed violently in my pocket.
It was Vance, my chief legal counsel and managing partner at Rivas Global.
—Alejandro? —Vance’s voice was uncharacteristically tight, breathless. — Where the hell are you? Your mother and Mauricio have been calling my office since 6:00 AM. They’ve filed an emergency petition in Mexico City to declare you mentally incapacitated due to acute depressive grief following Mariana’s death. They’re trying to freeze all corporate assets and place the entire holding company under a family emergency receivership.
A dark, humorless smile touched the corners of my mouth.
—Is that so, Vance? —I asked calmly, taking a sip of coffee.
—Alejandro, they have affidavits signed by your mother claiming you’re bringing unverified vagrants into your properties and exhibiting paranoid delusions. The judge is scheduled to sign the temporary injunction at noon. If that happens, your accounts are locked, and you won’t even have the power to buy groceries.
—Let them try, —I replied smoothly. —Vance, I need you to do three things for me right now. First, contact Judge Albarrán at the Federal District Court. Tell him I will personally appear in his chambers at 11:00 AM with evidence that completely invalidates my family’s petition.
—Evidence of what?
—Corporate embezzlement, tax evasion, and human trafficking operating under the umbrella of the 'Fundación Mariana Rivas,' funded directly by Rivas Constructions capital over the last six years.
A sharp intake of breath hissed through the phone speaker. —Good God, Alejandro... are you sure? That’s your own family. That’s your brother and mother.
—They aren't my family, Vance. They are parasites wearing human skin. Step two: dispatch two armored units to my Lomas mansion immediately. I want my mother’s private safe cracked open and every document regarding the Toluca maternity clinic secured before she can shred them. Step three: alert the federal attorney general’s special unit on financial crimes. Tell them I am walking in with a confession package that will keep three generations of Rivas behind bars for the rest of their natural lives.
—Consider it done, boss, —Vance said, his professional composure returning with a vengeance. —I’ll see you at the courthouse.
I hung up, sliding the phone back into my pocket.
From the lawn, Luna let out a joyful squeal as she caught the butterfly in her cupped hands, showing it to Sol with wide, starry eyes. My chest ached with a fierce, protective love that felt entirely new—a love untainted by corporate ambition or social standing.
—Daddy? —Sol called out, running toward the veranda, her small sneakers crunching on the gravel.
I froze.
She had called me Daddy. Not mister. Not the tall man.
I dropped to one knee, open arms wide, as the little girl hurled herself into my chest, knocking the breath out of me. Luna bounded up a second later, wrapping her arms around my neck.
—We’re not going back to the dark room with the scary nurse, right? —Luna whispered anxiously against my ear.
I held them tighter, pressing my face into their tangled brown hair, inhaling the scent of baby soap and mountain air.
May you like
—Never, —I vowed, my voice thick with unshed tears. —Nobody will ever touch you again. I swear it on your mother’s soul.
Within an hour, we were packed into the back of my bulletproof Mercedes SUV, speeding down the winding mountain highway toward Mexico City. The storm was coming, and my family was about to find out what happened when you poked a sleeping wolf that had nothing left to lose.
