Chapter 7 - THE RECKONING IN THE GARAGE
The underground garage of the Ríos estate was a vast, subterranean vault built of reinforced concrete, housing twenty luxury vehicles, armored SUVs, and high-performance sports cars.
The heavy steel service elevator doors slid open with a loud chime.
Hector rushed out, panting frantically, holding a black leather duffel bag stuffed with bearer bonds and cash he had taken from his private office safe.
He ran toward his personal vehicle—a black armored Mercedes G-Wagon parked near the exit ramp.
He pulled out his remote key fob, clicking it frantically.
Nothing happened. The vehicle's security lights remained dark. The heavy steel blast doors covering the exit ramp were fully closed, sealed shut by the estate's central lockdown system.
"No, no, no!" Hector screamed, pounding his fist against the driver's window.
"Looking for a way out, cousin?"
A low, gravelly voice echoed through the silent concrete garage.
Hector spun around, dropping his leather duffel bag.
Standing twenty feet away, framed by the headlights of a pristine white vintage sports car, was Alejandro.
He had stripped off his bloody suit jacket. His arms were bare, revealing the dark ink syndicate tattoos covering his forearms. He carried no weapon in his hands—only his bare fists.
Behind him, emerging from the dark corners of the garage, stood Marco and twelve heavily armed estate guards, their automatic weapons trained directly on Hector's chest.
"Alejandro..." Hector stammered, his face turning the color of milk. He took three desperate steps backward until his spine hit the armored G-Wagon. "Listen to me... we're family! Blood! We can work this out! I'll give you back the money—all forty million! I'll leave Mexico forever!"
Alejandro walked toward him slowly. His footsteps echoed like execution bells against the concrete floor.
"Sofia wrote a letter, Hector," Alejandro said, his voice flat, devoid of all emotion. "She hid it in Mateo's nursery. She told me everything."
Hector’s jaw dropped. "Alejandro... she was lying! She was trying to divide us—"
BANG.
Alejandro didn't wait for him to finish. He closed the distance in a fraction of a second, driving a devastating right hook straight into Hector’s face.
The impact broke Hector’s nose instantly, sending him crashing onto the cold concrete floor, crying out in agony as blood poured over his expensive silk shirt.
Alejandro grabbed Hector by his hair, dragging him across the floor toward the center of the garage, hoisting him up against the hood of an SUV.
"For two years," Alejandro whispered into his cousin's ear, his breath hot and deadly, "I watched my son scream in the dark. For two years, I thought I was the reason my wife died. You made my baby a motherless orphan, Hector."
"Please... Alejandro... mercy!" Hector sobbed, choking on his own blood. "In the name of your father... mercy!"
Alejandro looked down at his cousin—the man he had raised like a brother, the man he had trusted with his life.
"Mercy is for human beings," Alejandro said softly. "You are a parasite."
Alejandro turned to Marco.
"Take him to the mountain property," Alejandro ordered, his voice leaving no room for debate. "Hand him over to the federal authorities along with the offshore bank records Sofia left us. Let him spend the rest of his pathetic life in a six-by-six concrete cell in La Palma."
Hector blinked, stunned. "You... you're not going to kill me?"
Alejandro looked down at him with profound, icy disdain. "Death is too quick for you, Hector. You are going to sit in the dark for thirty years, and every single day, you are going to remember that a twenty-two-year-old maid brought you down."
The guards stepped forward, grabbing Hector by his arms, dragging the screaming, weeping traitor out of the garage.
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Alejandro stood alone in the quiet garage for a long moment. He wiped his hands on a clean cloth, took a deep breath, and looked up toward the ceiling—toward the second floor where his son was waiting.
The shadow that had hung over his life for two years had finally lifted.
