Chapter 3 - The Reconstruction of the Trap
The secure boardroom of the Aranda Tower in Lomas de Chapultepec smelled of high-end air filtration and panic. It was 11:30 PM. The glass tables were covered in white boxes containing the forensic preliminary reports from the Panteón Español, delivered less than an hour ago by an independent medical expert under Alejandro’s supervision.
Sebastián sat at the head of the table. Beside him, Inés sat in a leather armchair, now wearing a simple navy blue wool dress that Montiel had retrieved from the family’s old town residence. Her face had been washed, her silver hair brushed back into a neat knot, but her fingers still drifted occasionally to her throat, checking if the hummingbird was still there.
Toño was asleep on the large sofa in the corner of the room, wrapped in a plush cashmere blanket, an empty plate of sliders on the table beside him.
"The remains in the coffin belonged to a woman named Valeria Mendoza," Licenciada Montiel announced, sliding a digital file onto the center monitor. "She was a former warehouse supervisor at the Veracruz terminal who went missing three years ago—exactly eight months after your mother’s disappearance. The forensic matching was faked at the state level by a medical examiner named Dr. Perales, who received a corporate wire transfer of twelve million pesos from an offshore shell account named Aegis Shipping."
"Aegis Shipping is a subsidiary of Kensington Transit," Sebastián noted, his eyes narrowing as he read the transaction logs. "The British group that Mauro has been trying to merge our logistics network with for the last eighteen months."
"It wasn't a merger, Sebastián," Inés said softly, her voice steady as she looked at the glowing screen. "It was a liquidation. Five years ago, before your father’s heart attack, he discovered that Mauro had been using our northern shipping routes to move unregistered cargo across the border—cargo that didn't belong to our corporate clients. It belonged to a network operating out of Tamaulipas."
Sebastián felt a cold weight settle into his stomach. "Contraband? Mauro?"
"Your father was going to remove him from the succession completely," Inés explained, her green eyes reflecting the blue light of the monitors. "He had drafted the new trust protocol that gave you ninety percent of the voting shares, with the remaining ten percent held in a lifetime annuity for me. But your father died before he could sign the final deed. The night after the funeral, Mauro came to my house in Polanco. He didn't come alone. He brought Arthur Kensington’s local representative and two men from the state police detail."
She took a slow, deep breath, her knuckles turning white against the leather of her chair. "They showed me the files Mauro had doctored. They told me that if I didn't sign a global power of attorney giving Mauro total control of the Villalba estate trust, they would release evidence that you, Sebastián, were the one who had authorized the Tamaulipas shipments. They had your digital signature on every customs manifest. They had a faked bank account in your name in the Cayman Islands with eight million dollars in it."
"They framed me to force you out," Sebastián whispered, the sheer scale of the betrayal making his chest tighten with a violent, protective fury.
"I refused to sign," Inés said, a small, fierce smile touching her lips. "I told them that my son was smarter than their forgeries. So they took me. They drove me to a private medical clinic in Lerma where they kept me sedated for fourteen months, trying to break my resolve. Every week, Mauro would come with a new set of papers. Every week, I told him the same thing: You can take my house, you can take my cars, but you will never buy my signature."
"How did you escape, Mom?"
"The clinic was abandoned after a federal raid on a separate money-laundering case three years ago," she said, looking down at her hands. "The guards ran away before the trucks arrived. I walked out into the woods. I didn't have money, I didn't have documents, and I knew that if I went to the police, the same commander who took me would finish the job. So I became a shadow, Sebastián. I lived in the ravines of Santa Fe because it was the only place in this city where the men in gray SUVs don't look."
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The door to the boardroom opened, and Castillo walked in, his face grim. "Sir, we have a tracking update on Mauro. He left the cemetery under police surveillance, but his legal team managed to secure a temporary protective injunction (amparo) from a district judge in Veracruz. He’s currently inside his penthouse in Santa Fe, and our intelligence team reports that two private security vehicles from the Kensington detail have just arrived at his garage."
Sebastián stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. "He’s trying to clear the physical archives before the federal warrant is executed tomorrow morning. Castillo, get the team ready. We’re going to Santa Fe."
