Chapter 11 - The Inheritance of Silence
The ink on the federal clearance documents was barely dry when Elena called me into the grand study of the Polanco estate. The room smelled of old leather, cigar smoke, and centuries of secrets that refused to stay buried.
“Salgado is behind bars, yes,” Elena said, her eyes narrowing as she slid a heavy, brass-bound ledger across the mahogany desk. “But a vacuum in this city never stays empty for long. When you cleared your mother’s name, you didn't just expose a corrupt politician; you inherited the keys to the entire shipping logistics network she once audited.”
“I don’t want a network, Elena. I want my normal life back,” I replied, standing firm against the edge of the desk.
“Normal is a luxury for people who don't carry the Vitale name,” a cool, deep voice resonated from the doorway.
Santiago stepped into the room, leaning slightly against the doorframe, his posture betraying the lingering stiffness from his gunshot wound. His dark eyes held a weight that made my breath catch.
“You think because Salgado is gone, the wolves disperse?” Santiago continued, walking over to stand right beside me. “They are already circling, Lucía. And the only way to protect Matteo—and yourself—is to step into the light where they cannot touch you from the shadows.”
May you like
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed violently on the desk. A text message flashed from an unknown number. It was a single, chilling photograph: Matteo playing in the estate's private courtyard, captured through a high-powered sniper scope.
Beneath it, a message read: The boy is ours. Bring the brass ledger to the Monument to the Revolution by midnight.
