Chapter 4 - Echoes of Betrayal
Sofía felt a chill run down her spine. "A deliberate poisoning? But why? He is just a baby. Who could possibly benefit from keeping an infant in constant pain?"
Nicolás walked to the window, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture rigid as an iron bar. "In my world, vulnerability is a death sentence. For seven weeks, I have been distracted. I canceled meetings with syndicates from Sinaloa. I pulled our private security details off the shipping docks in Manzanillo to guard this mansion. I spent hundreds of millions of pesos flying in doctors, completely blind to the fact that my empire was being picked apart at the edges while I watched my son bleed."
He turned around, his face a mask of cold fury. "While I was trapped in this nursery, a rival family—the Treviños—quietly bought up forty percent of our logistics shares in the north. And the person who facilitated the paperwork, the person who insisted on using the 'specialist' laundry service from Zurich... was my mother."
Sofía covered her mouth. "Doña Leonor? She would sacrifice her own grandson’s health for money?"
"Not for money," Nicolás said with a bitter, hollow laugh. "For relevance. My mother never forgave me for taking over the family business after my father died. She wanted Valeria and me married because the Serrano family is old money, easily manipulated. If Mateo remained sick, Valeria would stay here, dependent on her. I would remain distracted, leaving the boardroom open for my mother to execute deals with the Treviños to restore her old power."
"That is monstrous," Sofía whispered, looking at the innocent child sleeping peacefully in the crib. "She watched him scream. She sat right next to that crib and watched him rip his own skin apart!"
"She did," Nicolás said, his voice dropping into a register that made the room feel dangerously small. "And she will pay for every tear my son cried. But right now, my security team has detected suspicious movements along our perimeter. The Treviños know I’ve found out about the shares. They know the distraction is over. They are getting desperate."
He walked directly up to Sofía, stopping mere inches away. The sheer heat of his body radiated against her. "I am moving you and Mateo to the safe room in the basement. It is built beneath four feet of reinforced concrete. You will be safe there."
"And what about you?" Sofía asked, her heart hammering against her ribs—not from fear of the danger outside, but from the proximity of the man in front of her.
"I am going to clean my house," Nicolás said simply.
Before he could lead them out, a muffled explosion shook the mansion. The glass windows of the nursery rattled violently. The lights flickered, died, and then the red emergency backup generators hummed to life, casting the room in a bloody, surreal glow.
Mateo woke up with a start, letting out a sharp cry of fright.
Sofía scooped him up instantly, holding him tight. "Nicolás!"
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The sound of automatic gunfire echoed from the front gardens, sharp and terrifyingly close.
"They're already inside the gates," Nicolás said, drawing a sleek, matte-black pistol from his shoulder holster with terrifying fluidity. He didn't look panicked; he looked like a predator that had finally been let off its leash. He grabbed Sofía’s arm, his grip firm but careful not to hurt her. "Stay behind me. We move now."
