Chapter 2 - The Call That Changed the Equation
The phone in Elena’s pocket felt heavy, vibrating with an urgent potential she had almost forgotten. Without breaking her stride, she pulled it out, her fingers unlocking the screen with practiced speed.
Victoria froze halfway back to her seat, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits.
—A quién llamas? —Victoria demanded, her voice losing its melodic composure, snapping like a dry twig.
Elena did not respond. She ignored the question entirely, lifting the phone to her ear as she scrolled down her call log with deliberate slowness. The library fell into an absolute, suffocating hush. Even Marcus Vance shifted uncomfortably in his chair, sensing that the script they had rehearsed for weeks was violently derailing.
Elena found the contact and pressed call.
Marcó to Sergio Navarro.
Sergio Navarro was not just any lawyer; he was Ernesto’s personal legal counsel—a man who had operated outside the firm controlled by Victoria and her allies, handling the matters Ernesto kept hidden from his wife. Sergio answered on the second ring, his voice low, measured, and devoid of the theatricality that filled the estate.
—Diga.
—Señor Navarro… you gave it to me, —Elena said clearly, ensuring her voice carried across the high ceilings of the library.
There was a brief rustle on the other end of the line, the sound of papers being shifted in a quiet office. Then, Sergio asked a question so specific, so loaded with intent, that it made the hairs on the back of Victoria's neck stand up.
—¿Delante de los testigos?
Elena looked directly at Marcus Vance, Dr. Finch, and Beatriz, who were all watching the exchange with wide eyes.
—Sí, —Elena replied firmly.
Across the room, Victoria’s carefully constructed composure began to crumble. The color drained from her face, leaving her skin a chalky, sickly grey. The triumphant aura she had worn moments ago evaporated, replaced by a sudden, frantic panic.
—What is it? — Sergio asked from the phone, his tone sharpening.
Elena looked down at the canvas bag resting on the table where she had dropped it, and then at the round object wrapped inside its fabric lining.
—El pan.
A brief, heavy pause followed on the line. The kind of pause that precedes an explosion.
Then, the lawyer’s voice came through, steady and chillingly calm:
—The first condition is met.
Elena frowned, her brow furrowing as the words washed over her. The surreal nature of the moment made her head spin.
May you like
—What condition? — she whispered into the phone.
—Now we can open the second clause.
