Chapter 5 - THE RESURRECTION OF DON FERNANDODon Fernando Villarreal chuckled—a dry, raspy sound that echoed off the damp concrete walls of the archives room. He casually brushed a speck of dust off his white orderly jacket, stepping away from the glowing computer terminal as if he owned the hospital, the city, and the very air Alejandro breathed.
"Buried?" Fernando shook his head, a mocking smile touching his eyes. "Ah, Alejandro. You were always so easily manipulated by pageantry. A closed casket, a weeping widow at your side, a few well-placed bribed coroners in Guadalajara, and a military honor guard. It is amazing what four million pesos can buy in a country like ours."
Alejandro took a step forward, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned translucent. "Why? Why fake your own death? Why put me through that hell? Why destroy our family?"
"Destroy?" Fernando’s expression hardened instantly, flashing the ruthless, predatory brilliance that had built the Villarreal empire from the blood and dirt of cartel wars into legitimate multinational conglomerates. "I didn't destroy the family, Alejandro. I saved it. By 2020, the federal indictment net was closing in on me. The DEA, the Mexican Attorney General, the international tax syndicates—they were all converging on my name. If I stayed alive as Don Fernando Villarreal, everything we owned—every peso, every skyscraper, every shipping port—would have been seized by the government."
Fernando stepped closer, locking his piercing, cold grey eyes onto his son's.
"So, I died. I transferred full legal ownership of the empire to you—a clean, grieving orphan with a pristine reputation. The authorities closed the investigations because dead men don't stand trial. I gave you a clean slate, a multi-billion-peso throne, and absolute power."
"And in return, you treated my life like your personal chessboard!" Alejandro shouted, his voice echoing down the empty hospital corridor. "You forced Camila to leave me! You threatened her life! You used my child as collateral!"
Fernando’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of ice-cold disappointment. "Camila was a liability. A smart, ambitious girl who started asking questions about the shell companies funding our European expansions. When she got pregnant, she became a threat. If an heir was born while my empire was operating under the radar, it would create a traceable paper trail. So, I gave her a choice: walk away, pretend to betray you, and live in the slums where no one would ever look twice at a disgraced waitress—or I would paint the walls of your penthouse with your brains while you slept."
Alejandro lunged forward with a roar of pure animal fury, his hands flying toward his father's throat.
Before his fingers could make contact, a heavy blow struck Alejandro across the back from behind. Mateo—trusted, loyal Mateo—grabbed Alejandro’s arms, twisting them behind his back with brutal efficiency, slamming him face-first against the metal filing cabinet.
Alejandro gasped for air, his cheek pressed against cold steel, staring up in utter disbelief at his head of security.
"Mateo..." Alejandro choked out, blood dripping from a split lip. "What... what are you doing?"
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Mateo didn't look at him. Instead, he straightened his lapel, turned to Don Fernando, and gave a respectful, crisp nod.
"Good evening, Don Fernando. Everything is proceeding according to plan."
