Chapter 18 - The BlackmailThe grand library of the mansion was soundproofed and locked from the inside.
Arturo Cortez was thrown into a leather armchair by Chief Silva. The old man reeked of stale tobacco and desperation, looking around at the priceless art and antique books with greedy, calculating eyes.
The heavy mahogany doors opened.
Diego walked in first. He didn't look like a philanthropist or a loving husband. He looked like the ruthless tycoon who destroyed lives before breakfast. His presence was so overwhelmingly lethal that Arturo physically shrank back into the chair.
Behind Diego stepped Marisol.
Arturo’s eyes widened. He hadn't seen his daughter in fifteen years. The last time he saw her, she was a frail, weeping girl begging him not to leave. Now, she stood before him like an absolute queen, draped in crimson silk, her chin held high, her dark eyes completely void of fear.
"Marisol," Arturo forced a slimy, pathetic smile. "Look at you. You've done well for yourself, mija. I saw you on the news. A billionaire. And a new baby on the way! Your old man is so proud."
Diego took a step forward, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. "If you speak to my wife again, I will have my men break your jaw. Why are you here?"
Arturo swallowed hard, realizing the billionaire was not a man to trifle with. But greed made him bold.
"I'm here for my cut," Arturo sneered, pulling out a cheap smartphone. "I have a video right here. It’s me, crying in my rundown shack, talking about how my cruel, cold-hearted daughter abandoned me to starve while she lives in a palace. I talk about how she manipulated a wealthy man. The tabloids will eat it up. It will ruin her precious charity foundation."
Marisol stared at him, feeling a wave of absolute disgust. She didn't feel sadness. She only felt pity for the pathetic creature sitting in her house.
"How much?" Diego asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He was already calculating how many laws he would have to break to make Arturo disappear permanently.
"Fifty million dollars," Arturo demanded, a manic gleam in his eyes. "Fifty million, and I delete the video and disappear forever. If you don't pay up, I hit 'send' to every news outlet in Mexico, and your perfect little fairytale burns to the ground."
Diego pulled out his phone. "Silva. Bring the car around. We are taking out the trash."
"No."
Marisol’s voice sliced through the tension in the room. Clear, calm, and absolute.
Diego stopped, looking back at his wife. "Marisol, let me handle this. He is threatening our family."
Marisol walked slowly past Diego, placing a gentle hand on his chest to soothe his roaring temper. She stood directly in front of the man who had abandoned her.
"You think you can come into my home and threaten my family?" Marisol asked, her voice chillingly calm. "You think I am still the terrified little girl you left crying in the dark?"
Arturo sneered. "You are nothing without his money, Marisol. Pay up, or I ruin you."
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Marisol didn't flinch. She simply smiled. It was a cold, predatory smile that she had learned from watching her husband destroy his rivals.
"Diego," Marisol said without taking her eyes off her father. "Pass me the blue folder from the desk."
