Chapter 13 - The Vote
By the following morning, the De la Vega project had become the center of a national business scandal.
Investors panicked.
Banks called Federico’s old company loans.
Suppliers demanded guarantees.
Desarrollos De la Vega shares dropped twenty-one percent before noon.
Alejandro sat inside my father’s conference room watching his family’s company bleed.
I watched him watching it.
For three years, that company had been his religion.
Now it was becoming evidence.
My father placed the Sector Twelve map on the table.
“We need legal access.”
Alejandro nodded.
“You have it.”
Beatriz turned.
“What?”
He looked at her.
“The land belongs to the company.”
“And I control the company.”
“For now.”
“You cannot authorize an excavation without the board.”
“I control four seats.”
“You need five.”
Alejandro looked at me.
“I’ll get the fifth.”
That was different from the man I had divorced.
Not necessarily better.
But different.
Camila sat at the far end of the table under guard.
Nobody trusted her.
Especially Alejandro.
They had barely looked at each other since the warehouse.
Finally, he spoke.
“Was any of it real?”
Camila’s expression tightened.
“Not now.”
“No.”
He stood.
“I need to know.”
I almost told him to stop.
Then I remembered how long I had needed answers.
Camila looked at him.
“At first, no.”
He absorbed the blow.
“And later?”
“I cared about you.”
“Loved me?”
She hesitated.
“No.”
Alejandro nodded once.
Pain crossed his face.
Not dramatic.
Just clean.
Final.
“You should have told me.”
She almost laughed.
“You were cheating on your wife.”
“I know.”
“You want honesty from me because now you understand betrayal.”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
“I do.”
That silenced her.
He returned to his chair.
Something ended between them.
Not romance.
That had ended long ago.
Illusion.
My father opened the meeting.
The choice before us was brutal.
Grupo Vanguardia could reject the De la Vega financing immediately.
That would protect us financially.
It might also push Desarrollos De la Vega into insolvency before we gained access to Sector Twelve.
Or we could approve a controlled bridge loan.
That would give Vanguardia contractual oversight rights.
Including auditing and site inspection authority.
The very financing Ricardo had manipulated could become the mechanism that exposed him.
Martin Lozano joined by video.
“This is dangerous.”
“Yes,” I said.
“The market will say you rescued your ex-husband.”
“Let them.”
“The board may face lawsuits.”
“Structure the loan at market terms.”
“We still have conflict issues.”
“Then require unanimous approval from every independent member.”
Martin leaned back.
“You’re willing to surrender your deciding power?”
“Yes.”
Dad studied me.
That mattered.
Ricardo’s plan depended on my vote.
If I voluntarily gave up special influence while remaining chair, the conflict argument weakened.
“And the site inspection?” Martin asked.
“Mandatory.”
“Every parcel?”
“Especially Sector Twelve.”
Alejandro spoke.
“I’ll sign.”
Beatriz stared at him.
“You don’t know what is under that land.”
“That’s why I’m signing.”
“What if it destroys the company?”
He looked at her.
“What if the company deserves to be destroyed?”
She flinched.
The board vote began at 3:00 p.m.
One by one, directors voted.
Yes.
Yes.
Abstain.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
The final independent vote came from Martin.
He looked directly into the camera.
“Approved under enhanced investigative conditions.”
Alejandro closed his eyes.
Not relief.
Acceptance.
I signed last.
VALERIA MENDOZA GARCÍA.
CHAIR, STRATEGIC INVESTMENT COMMITTEE.
The same name that had made his hands shake one day earlier.
Now Alejandro watched me sign without asking me to save him.
That mattered more than he knew.
Excavation crews entered Sector Twelve before sunset.
Federal investigators accompanied them.
We could not publicly explain why.
The official reason was environmental due diligence.
At 8:47 p.m., the first ground scan detected a buried metallic object.
At 9:15, they found concrete that did not appear on any construction plans.
At 10:03, a forensic team began removing soil.
At 11:22, Gabriel called.
I answered immediately.
“What did they find?”
His voice was quiet.
“A car.”
My body went cold.
“What?”
“A vehicle buried under the concrete.”
“What kind?”
“Sedan.”
“Old.”
“Approximately twenty years.”
Camila stood.
“My mother?”
Gabriel continued.
“There’s a body inside.”
Camila stopped breathing.
I grabbed the table.
“Female?”
“Yes.”
Camila made a broken sound.
But Gabriel had not finished.
“There are two bodies.”
Everyone froze.
I stared at the phone.
“Two?”
“One female.”
“One male.”
Camila whispered.
“My father?”
I looked at her.
No.
Esteban had been alive recently.
Then Gabriel said something worse.
“The male victim has identification.”
“Who?”
A pause.
“Ricardo Salazar’s older brother.”
The man whose death had officially been ruled suicide twenty years earlier.
The conspiracy had not merely buried documents beneath Sector Twelve.
It had buried people.
May you like
And if Ricardo’s brother was one of them, then Ricardo had spent decades working for the same organization that murdered his own family.
Unless he had known all along.
