The ballroom of the Palacio de Mármol shimmered with excess—diamond chandeliers, gold-leaf ceilings, and a crowd soaked in old money and scandal. It was the annual Fundación Esperanza gala, the kind of event where politicians kissed cartel hands in suits and called it philanthropy.
And tonight, she would walk among them.
Valentina Cruz no longer existed.
Enter: La Reina Escarlata.
A New Face, A New Weapon
Valentina stood before the full-length mirror in a private suite upstairs. Her gown, blood-red silk, hugged her figure like danger itself. A slit ran high on her thigh, revealing the golden dagger strapped beneath.
Her hair was swept back, elegant and cold. A scarlet mask covered the top half of her face, framed with golden embroidery—custom-designed. A symbol. A warning.
Lucia Ortega zipped her up from behind. "You sure about this? He'll be there."
"That's the point," Valentina said. Her voice was ice laced with gasoline. "I want him to see me... and not know what he's looking at."
Lucia hesitated. "If he recognizes you—"
"He won't. Not yet. But he'll feel something." Valentina turned, lips curving into a sharp smile. "A chill. A shift. The first sign the empire he built is crumbling."
The Gala: Lions in Velvet
Valentina descended the marble staircase like a storm draped in velvet. Eyes followed her. Whispers trailed behind her heels.
Across the room, Xavier Herrera stood beside Mexico's Minister of Energy, sipping wine like royalty. His suit was navy, tailored to perfection, his smile polished but predatory.
His gaze met hers. Paused.
Then smiled—polite, curious, unaware.
Valentina inclined her head, let her gaze linger for one calculated second longer than polite.
Then walked on.
He didn't recognize her.But something in his bones twitched.
Dance of Spies and Masks
Midway through the night, Diego appeared in her orbit, dressed like sin in a black tux. His eyes narrowed.
"You've changed," he said quietly as he offered her his hand for a dance.
"You still watching me?" she asked, taking it.
"I should arrest you," he said.
"You should… but you won't."
They danced.
Their bodies close. Words sparse. Tension high.
"Who are you really?" he whispered against her ear.
Valentina smiled against his neck. "You'll find out… when it's too late."
Backstage Empire
Later, in a hidden office inside the building, Valentina met with a Colombian investor who thought she was a Venezuelan heiress named "Catalina Alvarez."
She sealed the deal for a shipping route that would mask the golden poison pipeline.
New name. New operation. Same deadly queen.
Closing Scene – The Spark
Back at his penthouse, Xavier paced.
"That woman in the red mask," he murmured to Sofia. "There's something about her…"
"You're being paranoid," Sofia said, sipping whiskey.
"No. I've seen that look before. Somewhere in the past."He turned to his assistant. "Find out who she is. Tonight."
As thunder rolled over Mexico City, Valentina lit a cigar on her balcony, watching the skyline like it belonged to her.
Let the mask haunt him, she thought.Let it crawl into his dreams… because this is just the opening move.