Chapter 14 - The Midnight Reckoning
Hector Ganz was a professional, but even professionals hesitated when confronted by a man who looked ready to tear them apart with his bare hands. He slowly lowered the flashlight, his hand drifting toward the inside of his leather jacket where his pistol was holstered.
"Álvaro," Hector said, his voice recovered, carrying a mocking tone. "You shouldn't walk the hills at night. Accidents happen in these ravines."
"I know every stone in this valley, Hector," Álvaro said, taking a slow, measured step forward. "And I know exactly where the deep crevices are. The ones where a body would never be found."
Tomás fell to his knees, his face buried in his hands. "Álvaro, I’m sorry... I had no choice. My Maria... they were going to let her die."
"Silence, Tomás," Álvaro said, his eyes never leaving Hector. "We will deal with your betrayal later. For now, stand up and go to the villa. Lara is waiting for you. Do not run. If you run, you prove you are no longer a Calderón man."
Tomás scrambled to his feet and ran past Álvaro, his boots kicking up dust as he fled into the darkness.
Hector laughed, a dry, grating sound. "You’re soft, Álvaro. Just like your father. He thought honor could buy loyalty. Look where it got him—six feet under, and his wife living like a refugee in her own home."
The mention of his father was the final spark. Álvaro moved with a speed that defied his size. Before Hector could draw his weapon, Álvaro closed the distance, his hand gripping Hector’s wrist with a crushing force. With a sharp twist, he disarmed the security chief, the pistol clattering against the stone floor.
With his other hand, Álvaro gripped Hector’s throat, slamming him against the ancient stone altar of the chapel. Dust and small pebbles rained down on them. Hector gasped for air, his eyes bulging with sudden, genuine terror as he realized the sheer, raw strength of the man holding him.
"You think I’m soft, Hector?" Álvaro whispered, his face inches from the mercenary's. "I survived the corporate vultures of Madrid. I rebuilt this estate from the ashes. I have tolerated Veronica’s games because I wanted the law to handle her. But if you or your mistress ever set foot on my land again, I will not call the police. I will handle you myself, the old Castilian way."
He threw Hector to the floor. The mercenary lay there, coughing, clutching his throat.
"Get off my property," Álvaro commanded. "And tell Veronica that her ledger from Iberian Agritech is already in the hands of the Guardia Civil. The police are preparing the arrest warrants as we speak. Her empire is crumbling, Hector. Don't go down with her."
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Hector didn't answer. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed his flashlight, and fled into the night, his bravado entirely shattered.
Álvaro stood alone in the ruins of the chapel, the wind whipping his hair. He looked out over the dark valley, his heart pounding. The immediate threat had been neutralized, but he knew the snake was deadliest when cornered. Veronica would make one last, desperate play, and she would target the heart of the Calderón family: Sofia.
