Chapter 6 - The War Room
By midnight, Lucía and Daniel were settled into a private estate in the hills of Interlomas—a heavily fortified compound owned by the Saudi diplomatic delegation.
Lucía sat in a deep armchair near a roaring fireplace, wearing a warm wool sweater provided by the estate staff. Daniel was asleep in the adjacent bedroom, exhausted from the trauma of the evening.
In the central library, Tariq was on a conference call with three senior partners from the world’s most powerful corporate law firms in London and New York.
“We have filed an emergency injunction with the High Court of Arbitration in Geneva,” one lawyer reported over the speakerphone. “We are citing physical coercion, arson, and criminal conspiracy against Sterling Development Group.”
“Is the police report from Iztacalco secured?” Tariq asked, pacing before the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Yes, Sheikh Tariq,” his chief investigator stepped forward, holding a tablet. “Arson investigators found traces of industrial accelerant near Ms. Morales’s front door. We also obtained security camera footage from a nearby convenience store showing a black sedan registered to a security firm owned by Sterling’s holding company leaving the alley two minutes before the fire started.”
Tariq turned off the speakerphone and looked at Lucía, who had walked quietly into the library.
“He thought he was scaring a helpless woman into silence,” Tariq said, stepping toward her. “He didn't realize he was providing us with the exact evidence we needed to dismantle his entire corporate network.”
“I don't care about dismantling his network, Tariq,” Lucía said softly, staring into the flames of the fireplace. “I just want my son to be safe. I spent my whole life trying to be invisible so that no one would hurt us. And in one day, everything I built is gone.”
“You didn't build that apartment, Lucía. You survived it,” Tariq said gently, standing beside her. “You hid your strength behind a cleaning cart because the world told you that’s where you belonged. But your grandmother didn't give you that silver medallion so you could hide.”
Lucía pulled the silver coin from her sweater pocket, holding it tight in her palm until the edges dug into her skin.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock,” Tariq replied, his eyes flashing with fierce determination, “the international board of developers is holding an emergency ratification summit at the City Trade Center. Sterling expects to sign the final deeds in public to force the bank’s hand. We are going to walk into that room.”
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“And do what?”
“And take back what belongs to you.”
