Chapter 4 - THE DEBT COLLECTORThe silence in the grand ballroom was absolute, broken only by the mechanical hum of the overhead security system and the ragged, shallow breathing of dozens of terrified millionaires. Valeria stood inches from Nicolás Ferrer, her slight frame contrasting sharply with his broad, trembling stature.
"You like hitting people who can't fight back, don't you, Nicolás?" Valeria asked, her voice dangerously calm.
Nicolás swallowed hard, his arrogant facade completely shattered, leaving behind a pathetic, cornered coward. "I... I was joking. It was a misunderstanding. My father will pay you—name your price, ten million, fifty million—whatever you want!"
"Fifty million?" Valeria let out a cold, humorless chuckle. "Fifty million wouldn't even cover the emotional damage of the dust on my shoes, let alone the lives your family destroyed."
She turned away from him, walking slowly toward the center of the room where the elite of the city stood huddled together like sheep awaiting the slaughterhouse.
"Listen to me very carefully," Valeria announced, her voice carrying effortlessly across the cavernous hall. "For years, you sat in your ivory towers, drinking champagne, trading favors, and watching innocent people get crushed beneath your boots. You thought your wealth made you gods."
She stopped near the City Mayor, who was trembling so violently his teeth were chattering.
"Mr. Mayor," Valeria whispered, leaning down slightly. "How many housing permits did the Ferrer family buy from you to bulldoze the working-class districts? How many families were thrown out onto the street in the dead of winter?"
The Mayor opened his mouth, but no words came out. His lips moved soundlessly like a fish out of water.
"Every single one of you in this room has a choice," Valeria continued, turning back to face the entire assembly. "You can either sit here and wait for the structural debt collection to liquidate every penny you own... or you can earn your way out."
A collective murmur of desperate hope surged through the crowd. "Earn our way? How?!" a prominent real estate mogul cried out.
May you like
Valeria smiled—a sharp, predatory smile that made everyone’s blood run cold.
"Simple. Confess. Sign over your controlling stakes in every corrupt enterprise you own to the Vance Foundation, starting right now." Valeria pulled a heavy leather-bound document from a hidden compartment in the stage podium and slammed it onto the glass table. "Or stay locked in this tomb forever."
