The only sound in the penthouse was the slow drip of coffee from the gold-plated French press. Valentina sat across from Alejandro Reyes in his towering office overlooking Reforma Avenue, the city glittering below like scattered diamonds.
She didn't touch the coffee. She wasn't here for small comforts.
"I want the truth," she said, voice low and steady. "No riddles. No veiled half-sentences. Who the hell was my father really?"
Alejandro leaned back in his chair, studying her the way one studies a storm that's still on the horizon but coming fast.
"He was Rafael Veracruz," he said finally. "Born into one of the oldest cartel bloodlines in northern Mexico. Your grandfather built an empire with blood, cattle, and cocaine. But Rafael… your father, he walked away. Fell in love with your mother. Chose peace."
Valentina's heart punched against her ribs.
"He changed his name to Manuel Cruz," Alejandro continued, "and tried to vanish. But Xavier? Xavier didn't forgive ghosts who ran with secrets."
Her voice cracked, "So that's why he killed him?"
Alejandro nodded once. "And because Rafael had evidence. Evidence that could rip the cartel world in half."
The Bargain
Alejandro slid a worn leather folder across the table. It bore a sigil—an ouroboros, a snake eating its tail.
"Your inheritance," he said. "Not just money. Access. Property. Contacts. And something else... leverage."
Valentina opened the folder and felt the floor tilt beneath her.
Bank accounts. Shell companies. Maps. Handwritten letters. Names.
And a key.
"A vault in Monterrey," Alejandro said. "Your father's final insurance policy."
Valentina closed the folder.
"What's your price?"
Alejandro's smile was sharp and slow. "When the dust settles and Xavier falls… I want a piece of the new world. A silent partnership. Nothing more."
Valentina narrowed her eyes. "You're not a silent man."
"Then consider me… selectively mute."
Back at the Villa
Later that night, Valentina stood on her balcony, wind tugging at her robe. The city pulsed below, alive with sins and secrets.
She clutched the key.
Mateo stepped beside her, his shadow looming like a past she hadn't yet buried.
"Are you ready to be who you were born to be?" he asked quietly.
"No," she said. "But I'm done pretending I'm not."
Meanwhile… Sofia Connects the Dots
Sofia Herrera sat alone in her father's library, flipping through an old photo album she'd stolen from his private collection.
Her hand froze on one image—faded and sun-bleached.
A young girl with familiar eyes stood beside a man labeled "Rafael Veracruz."
That girl… wasn't Sofia.
It was Valentina.
Sofia's breath caught.
The woman she'd laughed with, danced beside, traded veiled barbs with… wasn't just a threat to their empire.
She was family.