Chapter 8 - The Ledger Revealed
Two hours later, under the cover of a torrential downpour, Marco smuggled me back into my apartment in Roma Norte. The shattered window had been roughly boarded up by police investigators who had already swept the place and left.
I rushed to the bedroom closet, dragging down my grandmother’s heavy, dust-covered leather photo album from the top shelf.
My hands trembled as I took a pair of small sewing scissors to the frayed cloth spine.
Rip.
A thick, waterproof memory card and a densely folded sheaf of original onion-skin paper tumbled out onto the bed. The papers were stamped with official Ministry of Finance seals from 2002—detailing every single bribe, shell company, and money-laundering account controlled by Héctor Salgado and his political conspirators.
My mother hadn't just been an assistant. She had been the master auditor who compiled the evidence against the entire regime.
“We found what we were looking for,” Marco’s gruff voice echoed from the doorway.
Before I could turn around, a cold piece of steel pressed firmly against the back of my neck.
I froze.
It wasn't Marco.
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Stepping out from the shadow of the closet was one of Marco’s own junior guards—a young man named Esteban, whom I had seen carrying bags at the mansion just days ago. His face was twisted in a greedy, desperate grin.
“Drop the flash drive, Lucía,” Esteban hissed, his breath hot against my ear. “Salgado pays very well for independent contractors. And let’s be honest... the Vitale reign is over.”
