Chapter 7 - Forensic Retribution
The offices of Serrano Tech Ventures on the forty-fifth floor of the Chapultepec Tower looked like a military war room on Monday morning. Fourteen analysts sat behind curved monitors, their fingers moving across keyboards in a continuous, rhythmic clatter.
I sat at the center table, a simple black blazer covering my medical tape, a file containing the complete asset inventory of Grupo Montiel open in front of me.
"The foreclosure process on Montiel Tower has officially begun," Elena Torres reported, setting a cup of green tea next to my tablet. "Alejandro attempted to secure an emergency line of credit from two different German banks over the weekend, but Don Ernesto personally called their regional directors. Their compliance departments flagged Grupo Montiel as a high-risk entity within an hour."
"What about the criminal complaint for the assault?" I asked, my eye tracking the legal schedule.
"The Public Ministry has assigned a federal prosecutor to the case," Elena said. "Mauricio Leal was intercepted at the Toluca airport on Saturday night attempting to board a flight to Houston. He had two hard drives containing the internal security logs of Montiel Tower inside his briefcase. He’s currently in custody at the Reclusorio Sur."
"Has he talked?"
"He didn't last three hours under interrogation," Elena said, a cold smile touching her lips. "He signed a full confession confirming that Alejandro explicitly ordered the attack to suppress your knowledge of the Salgado affair and the Miami wire transfers. He also gave us the names of the four guards."
The Legal Framework of the FallFederal Charge 1: Aggravated domestic violence and corporate coercion (Valeria Cruz Serrano vs. Alejandro Montiel).
Federal Charge 2: Fiscal fraud and simulation of operations involving the Miami real estate network.
Regulatory Penalty: Immediate suspension of all corporate signatures linked to the Montiel board of directors by the National Banking and Securities Commission (CNBV).
"He thought he could isolate me because I didn't have an office," I said, looking at the screen where the stock ticker for Grupo Montiel was dropping another fourteen percent. "He forgot that the office can be bought."
The intercom on my desk buzzed. "Miss Cruz, Alejandro Montiel is in the lower reception area. He doesn't have an appointment, but he refuses to leave until he speaks with you. He says he has a proposal that will save both families a decade of litigation."
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I looked at Elena, then at the digital clock on the wall. It was 11:15 AM.
"Bring him up," I said. "But remove his phone and his watch at the security desk. I don't want a single digital scrap of his presence left in this room."
