Chapter 6 - The St. Regis Ambush
At 9:45 AM, Alejandro and I walked through the opulent marble lobby of the St. Regis hotel in Paseo de la Reforma. Two federal agents in plainclothes flanked us discreetly, their hands resting near their tactical holsters under their jackets.
We took the private elevator straight up to the penthouse suite—the very suite Vanessa had retreated to after being kicked out of the Polanco estate.
I didn't bother knocking. Alejandro swiped a master override keycard provided by hotel security, and the heavy double doors clicked open.
The penthouse was a disaster zone of luxury and chaos. Expensive designer shopping bags from Chanel and Hermès were strewn across the white velvet sofa. Empty champagne bottles littered the glass coffee table alongside an open laptop and a ringing cell phone that was vibrating off the edge of the desk.
And standing in the center of the spacious living room, wearing a silk bathrobe and holding a glass of scotch, was Vanessa.
Her hair was disheveled, her makeup smeared from a sleepless night of panic and rage. When the door swung open and she saw me—flanked by federal agents and my lawyer—her glass slipped from her fingers, shattering against the Italian tile floor with a sharp crash.
"Mateo..." she choked out, her face turning an ugly shade of mottled red. "What... what is the meaning of this? Have you lost your mind? Call your little thugs off right now or I swear to God—"
"It’s over, Vanessa," I said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me. "The game is finished."
"Game?" she shrieked, her voice cracking into a manic, hysterical laugh as she backed away toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. "You think you’ve won, you ungrateful little street rat? My father is talking to the Attorney General right now! By noon, your engineering firm will be audited into oblivion, your assets seized, and you’ll be sitting in a dark prison cell while I raise your children to forget your pathetic face!"
"Your father isn't talking to anyone, Vanessa," Alejandro interrupted smoothly, stepping forward and tossing a fresh set of federal arrest warrants onto the coffee table. "Unless, of course, the prison telephone allows conference calls. Federal agents raided his estate in Lomas de Chapultepec thirty minutes ago. He’s currently being booked for money laundering, tax evasion, and corporate racketeering."
Vanessa froze. The color drained from her face so fast she looked like a corpse. She stared at the papers on the table, her breath coming in shallow, jagged gasps.
"No..." she whispered, shaking her head frantically. "No, that’s impossible... my family... we are untouchable..."
"Nobody is untouchable," I said quietly, walking right up to her until I could see the sheer, unfiltered terror reflected in her dilated pupils. "You thought you could crush my mother. You thought you could use my children as leverage and frame me for your family's crimes. But you underestimated one simple thing."
May you like
"What... what is that?" she whimpered, tears finally spilling over her lashes.
"You forgot where I came from," I whispered, my voice cold as winter ice. "I survived the dirt, the sweat, and the slums of Tijuana. You were born in a palace, Vanessa, but you’re going to rot in a cage."
