Chapter 3 - The Summons
The glass towers of financial district rose high into the afternoon sky, reflecting the bright blue light of the metropolis.
Inside the legal offices of Silva & Associates on the top floor of the Financial Center, Valeria sat behind a vast glass desk.
She wore a bespoke charcoal-gray pantsuit, her dark hair pulled back into a flawless chignon. Her lower lip showed a faint, fading mark, but her expression was as sharp as a diamond blade.
Eduardo Silva walked into the office, laying three thick red folders on her desk.
“The preliminary audit on Ortega & Sons is complete,” Eduardo said, sitting in the leather chair opposite her. “It’s far worse than simple negligence. Mauricio and his father have been double-billing state suppliers for six months, funneling approximately six hundred thousand pesos into shell accounts registered in Panama.”
Valeria picked up a pen, signing her authorization on the top document. “Submit the evidence directly to the tax authority and the federal prosecutor’s office.”
“And the personal assets?”
“Freeze everything,” Valeria said calmly. “The house in Zapopan, the personal vehicles, the commercial accounts. I want every asset tied to the Ortega name placed under judicial lock.”
A knock sounded at the double mahogany doors.
Valeria’s executive assistant, Sofia, stepped inside. “Madam Chairwoman, Mr. Mauricio Ortega is in the reception area. He is demanding to see you. He claims there has been an identity mix-up.”
Valeria looked at Eduardo, a faint, cold smile touching her lips. “Show him in.”
A moment later, the doors burst open.
Mauricio rushed into the room, flanked by two security guards who were keeping a firm grip on his arms. His suit was disheveled, his tie crooked, and dark circles shadowed his eyes.
“Valeria!” he yelled, struggling against the guards’ grip. “Tell these security guys to let me go! What is the meaning of this press release? Who put your name on a corporate fund?”
Valeria sat back in her chair, folding her hands neatly over her desk. She gestured slightly to the guards, who released Mauricio’s arms but remained standing directly behind him.
Mauricio straightened his jacket, breathing heavily as he stepped toward the desk. He looked at the plush office, the city panorama behind the glass, and the team of corporate attorneys standing around the perimeter of the room.
Then he looked at Valeria.
She wasn't wearing her cheap silver chain or her plain cotton dresses.
On her wrist sat a rare platinum Patek Philippe watch. On her finger was the signet ring of the Cruz family estate.
“Vale?” Mauricio stammered, his arrogance suddenly wavering as a cold, terrifying realization began to take root in his mind. “What... what is this place?”
“This is my office, Mauricio,” Valeria said, her voice echoing in the vast space. “This is Horizonte Capital.”
Mauricio shook his head rapidly, stepping back. “No... no, this is a joke. You’re an orphan. You work at a small import firm! I checked your tax filings when we applied for our apartment lease!”
“You checked the tax filings of Valeria Cruz, the synthetic identity created to protect my privacy while I evaluated your character,” Eduardo Silva stepped forward, handing Mauricio a certified corporate registry. “Miss Cruz is the sole controlling shareholder of Horizonte Capital, which holds eighty percent of your firm’s debt and forty percent of your regional suppliers.”
Mauricio stared at the documents, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He looked at Valeria, his mind wildly racing through every conversation, every dinner, and every moment over the past two years.
He had complained to her about his low salary. He had bragged to her about his minor corporate successes. He had made her sit at the kids' table during family dinners while his mother treated her like a servant.
And all the while, she had been sitting on a multi-billion-dollar fortune.
“Vale...” Mauricio whispered, stepping closer to the desk, his voice suddenly thick with desperation. “Vale, please... I didn't know. If I had known who you were—”
“If you had known who I was, you wouldn't have hit me?” Valeria interrupted, her voice dropping into a register so dark it made Mauricio flinch. “You wouldn't have let your mother hand me a bucket of dirty laundry on our wedding night?”
“It was my mother!” Mauricio lied frantically, throwing his arms out. “She forced me! She’s old-fashioned! I was drunk, Vale! I didn't mean to strike you! I love you!”
Valeria stood up from her chair.
She walked slowly around the desk until she was standing directly in front of him. She looked down at him with an expression of profound, unyielding disgust.
“You don't love me, Mauricio. You loved the idea of having someone you could look down on to feel bigger,” she said softly. “Yesterday, you told me I wouldn't last a week without you.”
May you like
She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a single folded twelve-dollar bill, sliding it into his breast suit pocket.
“Here is your change for the water you ruined,” Valeria said. “Now get out of my building.”
