Chapter 4 - The Secret Ingredient
While Alejandro worked with his legal team to organize the historic land deeds, Lucía maintained a vigilant eye over the estate.
She knew that a desperate enemy was a dangerous enemy.
Every morning, Lucía personally inspected all food deliveries coming into the gates. She refused to use commercial suppliers brought in by third-party drivers, instead traveling herself to the local farmer's market in El Pueblito to buy fresh vegetables, meats, and grains directly from farmers she had known for decades.
One quiet afternoon, while Doña Mercedes was resting in the garden courtyard, a commercial delivery van pulled up to the rear service gate of the estate.
A man wearing a delivery uniform and a low baseball cap stepped out, holding a large wooden crate filled with imported olive oils and luxury cheeses.
Teresa went to open the gate, but Lucía stepped in front of her, holding a long wooden kitchen paddle.
"Wait, Teresa," Lucía said softly, her eyes fixing on the delivery driver.
"Good afternoon, ladies," the driver said smoothly, keeping his face turned slightly away from the bright sun. "Special delivery from the gourmet market in Guadalajara for Señora Cárdenas."
"We didn't order anything from Guadalajara," Lucía said, her voice cool and steady. "Don Alejandro ordered all deliveries from Guadalajara to be canceled three days ago."
The driver hesitated, his posture tensing. "It was pre-paid by the corporate account, ma'am. I just need a signature."
Lucía stepped closer to the iron gate, her sharp eyes noticing the driver’s hands. He wore thick leather gloves, despite the warm afternoon heat, and under his sleeve, a dark tattoo of a coiled viper was barely visible—the signature mark of a notorious criminal gang operating out of the outskirts of Guanajuato.
"Set the box on the ground outside the gate and step back," Lucía commanded, her voice ringing with absolute authority.
The man’s hand shifted toward his waistband.
Before he could pull whatever was hidden under his shirt, two of Alejandro’s armed security guards emerged from behind the courtyard wall, their handguns raised.
"Freeze!" Carlos shouted, stepping toward the gate.
The driver dropped the crate, sprinted back to his van, and sped away down the dirt road, leaving a massive cloud of dust behind.
Carlos rushed outside, carefully inspecting the dropped wooden crate. Inside, among the bottles of expensive olive oil, was a small, unlabelled jar containing a fine white powder—cyanide.
Teresa collapsed against the stone wall, gasping for air. "They tried to do it again... right at the gate!"
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Lucía stood over the smashed crate, her face dark and resolute. She picked up a fragment of the broken crate wood, noticing a small red wax stamp on the side: Santos Logistics, San Miguel.
"They're getting sloppy," Lucía said quietly, looking toward the horizon. "They are running out of time, and that makes them stupid."
