Chapter 7 - The Ghost of Arthur Ambrose
With Isabel Vargas officially neutralized and exiled to a small, rented apartment on the outskirts of the city, Elena took her rightful place as the CEO and sole owner of Vargas Logistics, which was immediately integrated into the global supply network of the Carranza Group.
Under Matthew's subtle guidance and her own innate intelligence—which had been suppressed for so long—Elena flourished. She spent twelve hours a day in the office, restructuring the management, firing the corrupt executives Isabel had hired, and winning back the trust of the workers. She was no longer a victim; she was a leader.
However, the shadow of that fateful night wasn't entirely gone.
One evening, as Elena was reviewing shipping manifests in her new office at the Vargas headquarters, her private line rang. The caller ID was restricted.
She answered, her voice professional. "Elena Carranza."
A raspy, unpleasant laugh filled the earpiece. It was a voice that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Arthur Ambrose.
"Well, well, the little bird has grown some very expensive feathers," Ambrose sneered, his tone dripping with a dangerous, old-money arrogance. "You think you're safe because you crawled into Matthew Carranza’s bed, Elena? You think your little corporate maneuvers mean anything to a man of my political stature?"
Elena gripped the edge of her desk, forcing her breathing to remain calm. Panic reveals your position, she recalled Matthew's favorite tactical philosophy. "Mr. Ambrose. You should be careful about making unsolicited calls to the CEO of a Carranza subsidiary. My husband’s security team monitors this line."
"Let them monitor it," Ambrose hissed. "Your stepmother owed me eighty million dollars, Elena. She promised me your father’s deep-water shipping rights to cover that debt. I’ve already spent millions preparing the political grease to unlock those corridors. I don't care about your little marriage contract. In three months, on your twenty-fifth birthday, you will sign those rights over to my firm, or I will ensure that every shipping vessel flying the Carranza flag is tied up in federal regulatory gridlock for the next ten years. I have the senate committee in my pocket, girl. Tell your husband he picked the wrong asset to steal."
The line went dead.
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Elena sat back in her chair, a cold drop of sweat tracing her spine. Arthur Ambrose wasn't a desperate social climber like Isabel. He was a multi-billionaire with deep political ties to the highest levels of the maritime ministry. He had the power to make good on his threats, and a strike against the Carranza Group’s shipping fleets could cost Matthew billions.
She stood up, grabbed her coat, and took the private elevator down to the garage. She needed to see Matthew immediately. She wouldn't let her past ruin the man who had saved her life.
