The Moment Mateo Led Valeria Into the Forbidden North Wing, She Uncovered Something That Made the Cartel Boss Realize His Greatest Enemy Had Been Living Inside His Own Mansion All Along / Chapter 6 / 20

Chapter 6 - The Executioner’s OfficeThe heavy mahogany door clicked open.

Ignacio stepped into the study, his hand casually resting on the grip of his holstered weapon. His eyes instantly swept the room, assessing the threat level as he had been trained to do for over a decade. He expected to see Alejandro at his desk, perhaps angry about a delayed shipment or a border skirmish.

Instead, the room was empty.

"Patrón?" Ignacio called out, stepping further inside. The thick Persian rug absorbed the sound of his heavy boots.

Behind the hidden wall panel, Valeria sat on the floor of the dimly lit panic room, holding Mateo tightly against her chest. She could hear everything through the muffled audio feed piped into the secure bunker. Her heart was beating so wildly she thought it might shatter her ribs. Mateo, however, was eerily calm, his small hands clutching the lapels of her uniform.

In the study, the heavy door suddenly slammed shut with a mechanized thud, the internal deadbolts locking automatically.

Ignacio spun around, drawing his weapon in a flash of trained muscle memory.

Alejandro stepped out from the shadows near the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. His .45 caliber pistol hung loosely at his side, but his posture was that of a coiled viper.

"You called for me, Alejandro?" Ignacio asked, keeping his gun aimed at the floor but his body perfectly bladed for combat. He forced a confused smile. "Is there a breach?"

"A breach," Alejandro repeated softly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. He walked slowly toward his desk, keeping his eyes locked on the man who had been his brother-in-arms. "Yes. You could say that. A massive security failure. Right here in this house."

Ignacio frowned, taking a step forward. "I have the perimeter locked down. No one gets in or out without my authorization. You know that."

"I do know that," Alejandro said, stopping behind his desk. He looked down at the black leather ledger resting perfectly in the center of the polished wood.

Ignacio’s eyes followed his gaze.

The color drained from the head of security’s face so fast he looked like a corpse. His confident stance faltered. For a fraction of a second, his gun hand twitched.

"My wife was a beautiful woman, Ignacio," Alejandro said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly whisper. "She trusted you. She made you Mateo's godfather. She baked you a cake for your birthday three days before she was slaughtered on that highway."

Ignacio swallowed hard. The silence in the soundproof room was deafening. "Alejandro... listen to me. It's not what it looks like. The Sombras cartel... they had my mother. They forced my hand—"

"You sold my wife for two million pesos," Alejandro interrupted, his voice void of all human emotion. "And you let my four-year-old son watch her bleed to death. You let him rot in his own mind for two years, terrified of the man sworn to protect him."

"Patrón, please—" Ignacio raised his left hand in a placating gesture, his right hand gripping his weapon tighter.

"You wore the ring, Ignacio," Alejandro said softly.

Ignacio glanced down at his gloved hand. He realized the velvet box was sitting next to the ledger.

In a desperate, lightning-fast move, Ignacio raised his gun and fired.

BANG.

The bullet shattered the bulletproof glass behind Alejandro's desk, spiderwebbing the window, but Alejandro had already moved.

Before Ignacio could pull the trigger a second time, Alejandro’s .45 roared.

The heavy bullet caught Ignacio in the right shoulder, spinning him violently. His gun clattered to the floor. Ignacio screamed, crashing into the leather sofa.

Alejandro walked out from behind the desk, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated vengeance. He stood over the bleeding traitor.