Chapter 5 - The Corporate Strike
By noon, news of the arrests at Norte Firme hit the national financial news. Shares of Norte Firme spiked by 14% as the market realized the attempt to destabilize the company had been crushed before it could affect operations.
Sitting in my recovered executive office, I looked at the sprawling view of the Monterrey skyline. The city was bright, bathed in clear blue light after the storm.
Julian walked in, closing the door behind him. "Mauricio and his mother are being held without bail at the Topo Chico facility under high-security suicide watch. Camila’s legal team is already trying to negotiate a plea deal with Prosecutor Beltrán, offering to testify against Fausto Treviño in exchange for a reduced sentence."
"What about Treviño?" I asked, sipping a cup of black coffee—the first coffee I had enjoyed in weeks without fear of what was inside it.
"Treviño called an emergency press conference at Grupo Treviño headquarters thirty minutes ago," Julian said, turning on the large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. "He’s denying all knowledge of Camila’s activities, claiming she was a rogue former employee."
On the television screen, Fausto Treviño stood behind a podium surrounded by reporters. He looked immaculate, arrogant, and completely untouchable.
"Grupo Treviño has always operated with the highest ethical standards," Treviño announced into the microphones. "Any insinuation that our firm used improper means to compete with Norte Firme is slanderous. Mrs. Renata Collins' personal family tragedy is unfortunate, but it has no bearing on our commercial strength."
I picked up my phone and dialed Prosecutor Beltrán directly.
"Adriana," I said, not waiting for her to speak. "Execute Phase Two."
"Are you sure, Renata?" Beltrán asked over the speakerphone. "If we execute the financial freeze on Grupo Treviño now, it will trigger an immediate liquidity crisis for their international partners."
"Fausto Treviño didn't just try to steal my company," I said, standing up and walking toward the glass window. "He put a woman in my home who helped facilitate my slow murder. I want every asset, every warehouse, every credit line associated with Grupo Treviño seized before the stock market closes today."
Ten minutes later, the live broadcast on the television was abruptly interrupted.
Behind Fausto Treviño, four federal financial agents from the SAT (Tax Administration Service) accompanied by heavily armed officers from the Criminal Investigation Agency walked onto the stage.
The head agent pushed Treviño away from the podium, holding up a federal seizure order.
"Fausto Treviño," the agent announced live to the entire nation. "You are under arrest for corporate espionage, money laundering, tax evasion, and conspiracy to commit industrial homicide. All bank accounts and properties held by Grupo Treviño are hereby frozen under federal order."
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On screen, Treviño’s confident smile shattered. As the federal agents forced his hands behind his back and snapped the cuffs onto his wrists, his eyes locked onto the news camera.
I raised my coffee cup toward the screen and smiled.
