Chapter 7 - THE MORNING AFTERThe morning sun broke over Mexico City, casting a golden hue across the sprawling skyscrapers of Paseo de la Reforma. But inside the penthouse office of Alcocer Global Enterprises, the atmosphere was as cold and sharp as winter steel.
Mariana sat nervously on the edge of a sleek, white leather sofa in Alejandro Alcocer’s private office. She was no longer wearing her cheap catering uniform. Instead, she wore a clean, simple navy-blue blouse and dark slacks—the best outfit she owned, neatly pressed.
She looked around the massive, glass-walled office in quiet awe. Below her, the bustling traffic of the city looked like a colony of ants.
The heavy mahogany door swung open, and Alejandro walked in, carrying two cups of steaming coffee. He looked tired, dark circles shadowing his sharp eyes, but his posture was upright and unyielding. He had spent the entire night handling emergency board meetings, issuing legal severance packages to disgraced executives, and filing formal divorce proceedings against Regina.
"Good morning, Mariana," Alejandro said, offering her one of the cups of coffee. "I hope you slept well after the madness of last night."
Mariana stood up respectfully, taking the cup with both hands. "Thank you, sir. Honestly... I barely slept at all. It all still feels like some kind of surreal dream."
"It's no dream," Alejandro said, sitting down behind his massive glass desk and motioning for her to sit as well. "It is reality. Last night exposed the rot at the core of my empire, and today, we begin purging it. My legal team has already processed your background check, references, and employment application. Effective immediately, you are the new Senior Director of the Alcocer Foundation’s Youth Health Initiative."
Mariana nearly dropped her coffee cup. "Senior Director? Sir, I... I only have a high school diploma! I’ve never run a foundation, I’ve only ever worked odd catering jobs and retail counters—"
"You have character, Mariana," Alejandro interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And character cannot be taught in business school. I have plenty of Ivy League graduates who know how to push paper, but none of them have the fire or the empathy required to actually fix the broken communities in this city. You know what it's like to watch a sibling struggle for breath because medicine is too expensive. That perspective is invaluable to me."
Before Mariana could find the words to respond, the door to the office burst open without warning.
A tall, impeccably groomed man in his late thirties strode into the room. It was Rodrigo Alcocer—Alejandro’s nephew and the former Chief Operating Officer of Alcocer Global. His face was twisted into a mask of furious, unbridled rage.
"Have you completely lost your mind, Uncle?!" Rodrigo shouted, slamming both hands down onto Alejandro’s desk. "Firing half the board? Liquidating our joint ventures with the European developers? And now... you're handing a high-level executive position to a random catering girl off the street?! Are you trying to destroy everything grandfather built?!"
Alejandro didn't even flinch. He slowly set his coffee cup down, his cold, steady gaze locking onto his nephew.
"Watch your tone, Rodrigo," Alejandro said softly, his voice dangerously low. "Or you'll find yourself sharing the exact same fate as your aunt Regina."
Rodrigo sneered, casting a hateful, venomous glance at Mariana, who shrank back slightly on the sofa.
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"You think you can play god with this family's legacy just because grandmother wandered off and threw a tantrum?" Rodrigo snarled, leaning closer to his uncle. "The board is already calling an emergency meeting behind your back. They’re drafting a petition to declare you unfit to run the corporation due to 'mental distress caused by family trauma.' And guess who they're voting in to replace you?"
Rodrigo flashed a arrogant, triumphant grin. "Me."
