Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6: THE SILENT PARTNER
"We liquidate the US assets. Tonight. I don't care about the penalties," I demanded, slamming my open palms onto the mahogany conference table at our Wall Street satellite office.
The room was dark, lit only by the blue glow of financial monitors tracking the midnight trading in Tokyo. My father sat at the head of the table, his head buried in his hands. He looked older, suddenly burdened by the weight of a past he thought he had buried.
"It’s a corporate ambush, Valeria. It’s not that simple," Ricardo sighed, looking up with bloodshot eyes. "Julian Rivas isn’t a hotheaded amateur like his son. He is the architect who built the Rivas empire from the blood of the old cartels before they sanitized their name. If we pull our liquidity out of the shipping corridors now, it triggers a default clause in our American contracts. He designed a financial bear trap, and we walked right into it trying to absorb their leftovers."
Before I could fire back a response, the burner phone sitting on the table—a number known only to my father and Sofia—began to vibrate. The buzz sounded like a rattlesnake in the silent room.
My finger hovered over the glass before I swiped answer and threw it on speakerphone.
"Valeria," a voice purred through the speaker. It didn't have Santiago's frantic, insecure venom. This voice was smooth, ancient, and utterly devoid of human emotion. It sounded like velvet draped over concrete. "You have your father's defiance. But unfortunately, you inherit your mother's fragile heart."
"Julian," I said, forcing my voice into a cold, unbreakable steel. "Your son is a convicted abuser. Your wife is a disgraced criminal. You are a ghost holding onto a dead legacy. You have nothing left to threaten me with."
A low, soft chuckle vibrated through the line, sending a shiver straight down my spine. "Santiago was a pathetic boy who let a woman outsmart him because he couldn't control his fists. I do not make such messy mistakes. You think you took everything from us because you took our public name? Look out your window, my dear daughter-in-law."
I rushed to the floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking the rainy financial district. Thirty floors below, a single black armored SUV was parked idling at the curb, completely ignoring the no-parking zone. As I watched, the hazard lights flashed exactly three times.
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"I don't care about the shipping lines, Valeria," Julian’s voice whispered, sounding impossibly close, as if he were standing right behind me. "Keep the money. But that boy sleeping in your nursery? He carries the Rivas bloodline. He is my grandson, the rightful heir to what I built. And I will never allow a Salazar to raise him to forget his true name. I'll see you at the Autumn Gala on Friday. Wear something memorable."
The line went dead with a sharp, hollow click.
