The morning sun spilled over the rooftop of the crumbling safehouse, but there was no warmth in Valentina's chest. She hadn't slept. Couldn't. The names in the Veracruz file haunted her—faces she'd seen on billboards preaching reform, men in polished suits who shook hands with priests while burying bodies behind cathedrals.
"You realize what this means?" Yazmin asked, hunched over the laptop.
Valentina nodded slowly. "Xavier doesn't just own the streets. He owns the system. The judges. The police. Congress."
"And if we expose this?" Mateo chimed in from the doorway, arms folded. "They'll kill us before we even get to the microphone."
Valentina turned away from them, her jaw set.
"We don't expose it yet," she said. "We use it."
Later That Day – Central Market, Mexico City
It was chaos—street vendors shouting, music blasting, kids weaving through stalls with sugar-sticky fingers. But Valentina moved through it like a shark in shallow waters.
She met with Raul Ortega, an ex-cartel money handler who now ran a pawnshop.
"I heard you've been busy, niña," Raul said with a toothy grin.
"I'm putting together a business," Valentina replied, sliding a photo across the counter.
Raul's smile faltered.
"You know who this is?"
"Xavier's accountant," she said. "I want him. Alive."
Raul sucked his teeth. "That's a devil's handshake you're reaching for."
"I already shook it," she said. "Now I'm coming for the wrist."
Meanwhile – DEA Headquarters, U.S. Embassy, Mexico City
Diego Fuentes leaned over a corkboard littered with red strings and satellite photos. One name kept popping up: Valentina Cruz.
She had no criminal record. No known affiliations. But she was everywhere lately—connected to raids, missing men, and shifting cartel alliances.
"She's a ghost," he muttered.
His partner, Agent Lawson, raised an eyebrow. "You think she's working with Herrera?"
"No," Diego said, narrowing his eyes. "I think she's trying to take him down."
That Night – Valentina's Safehouse
Lucia Ortega arrived without warning.
She tossed a flash drive onto the table. "Bank accounts. Offshore. Belong to one of Xavier's shell companies."
Valentina didn't even look up. "Why help me?"
Lucia walked over slowly, lips brushing Valentina's ear.
"Because I want to see him burn, and you're the only flame hot enough."
Mateo watched them from the shadows, his face unreadable.
"She's playing a long game," he warned after Lucia left.
"So am I," Valentina replied. "Let's see who folds first."
Midnight – Abandoned Train Yard
Valentina met Raul's contact. The accountant was cuffed, blindfolded, and bruised.
She leaned in close. "You know who I am?"
"No," he stammered.
"You will," she said softly, "but more importantly, you'll remember me."
She injected a tiny dose of golden poison into his arm—not enough to kill, but enough to remind him that pain could be eternal.
"Now," she whispered, "you're going to tell me everything about Xavier's shipments… or tomorrow, we try a stronger dose."
Elsewhere – Xavier's Private Study
Lucia stood behind Xavier, silent as he sipped a whiskey and watched footage from Solaris.
"Her name's Valentina Cruz," he murmured.
He turned to Lucia.
"Bring her to me. Alive."
Lucia's throat tightened, but she nodded.
"As you wish."