Chapter 6 - THE HOUSE OF CARDSDawn at the GatesThe morning sun broke over the Sierra Madre mountains, casting a pale, cold golden light across the opulent courtyards of the De la Vega estate. But there was no warmth in it.
By 6:00 AM, the mansion looked less like a sanctuary of high society and more like a crime scene. Flashing red and blue lights from federal police cruisers illuminated the iron gates, reflecting off the polished marble fountains where Monterrey's elite used to sip champagne. Dozen of journalists, camera crews, and local onlookers pressed against the perimeter fences, shouting questions as federal agents in tactical gear marched boxes of evidence out of the grand foyer.
I stood on the front steps of the mansion, my chauffeur's jacket removed, wearing only a plain white button-down shirt. Two federal agents flanked me, but they weren't holding me in handcuffs. They were treating me as the primary cooperating witness—the inside man who had handed them the digital master key to the most corrupt empire in northern Mexico.
Through the grand double doors, Doña Victoria and Don Roberto were being led out in handcuffs.
Victoria’s hair was disheveled, her expensive silk bathrobe covered in dust and sweat. Her face was a mask of incandescent rage and absolute disbelief. She looked like a queen stripped of her crown, forced to walk the same dirt path she had once cast Elena onto. As she passed me on the steps, she stopped, her venomous eyes burning into mine with a hatred so pure it could have melted steel.
"You're a nobody," she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice trembling with fury. "You will always be a nobody from a cinder-block room. Even if we lose everything, you'll still be crawling in the dirt."
I didn't flinch. I looked down at her with a quiet, devastating pity that hurt her far more than any physical blow could have.
"Maybe so, Victoria," I replied softly, my voice carrying over the shutter clicks of a dozen press cameras. "But I'm crawling in the light. You're going down into the dark."
As the police cruisers swallowed them up and sped away down the mountain road, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me. The adrenaline that had sustained me for three long, agonizing years was finally draining from my veins, leaving behind a hollow, aching void in my chest.
My phone rang.
I pulled it out of my pocket with trembling fingers. It was nurse Maria.
I answered instantly, my heart leaping into my throat. "Maria? How is she? Is Sofía okay?"
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There was a long, suffocating pause on the other end of the line. My blood ran cold. The ambient noise of the police sirens and shouting reporters faded away into absolute silence.
"Mateo..." Maria’s voice was barely a whisper, thick with unshed tears. "You need to come to the hospital right now."
