Chapter 7 - The Boardroom Trap
The executive boardroom on the forty-fifth floor of the De la Vega Tower in Polanco offered a panoramic view of the entire city.
At eleven o’clock sharp, fourteen board members sat around a polished walnut conference table. At the head of the table sat Gabriel de la Vega, looking sleek in a navy Italian suit, a gold Rolex gleaming on his wrist.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Gabriel said, putting on a solemn, sorrowful expression. “As you know, my brother Alejandro suffered a severe cardiac event yesterday at his home. The doctors say his condition is... delicate. His grief over the loss of his family ten years ago has finally taken a heavy toll on his physical health.”
A few board members shook their heads sympathetically.
“Therefore,” Gabriel continued, sliding a thick set of legal documents toward the company secretary, “under Section 4 of our corporate bylaws, I am petitioning the board to grant me temporary full voting control of De la Vega Enterprises until Alejandro is deemed fit to return to work.”
“Has Alejandro signed this authorization?” asked Señor Benítez, an elderly board member who had been loyal to Alejandro’s father.
“Alejandro is currently incapacitated,” Gabriel lied smoothly. “His personal physician recommended absolute rest. I am doing this to protect the company, Señor Benítez. We have a fifty-million-dollar contract with German investors closing today. We cannot leave the chair vacant.”
“The chair isn't vacant, Gabriel.”
The deep, resonant voice echoed from the rear of the boardroom.
The heavy glass doors swung open.
Gabriel’s face went instantly pale.
Alejandro de la Vega walked into the room.
He did not look like a man who had suffered a heart attack. He wore an impeccably tailored charcoal suit, his dark hair brushed back, his eyes sharp, cold, and burning with terrifying intensity.
Beside him walked two men in dark suits—Marcos and an investigator from the Federal Attorney General's Office.
“Alejandro!” Gabriel stammered, scrambling to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over. “What... what are you doing here? Donoso said you were bedridden!”
“Donoso works for me, Gabriel,” Alejandro said smoothly, walking down the center of the boardroom. “Though I suppose he was taking your money as well.”
The board members looked between the two brothers in utter confusion.
“Alejandro, please,” Gabriel said, trying to force a warm smile, though sweat was beginning to bead along his forehead. “You shouldn't be standing. Let me help you—”
“Sit down, Gabriel,” Alejandro commanded.
The power in his voice was so absolute that Gabriel dropped back into his leather chair like a chastened child.
Alejandro reached the head of the table. He did not sit. He tapped a button on the conference console.
The giant projection screen at the front of the room flickered to life.
Instead of financial reports or German contracts, the screen displayed a series of bank statements from Panama, police affidavits from Guadalajara, and a high-resolution photograph of a gold baby bracelet engraved with the name Lucía.
Gabriel’s breath hitched. His eyes widened until they looked like they would burst from his sockets.
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“What... what is this?” Gabriel whispered, his voice cracking.
“That,” Alejandro said, pointing a steady finger at the screen, “is the paper trail of a monster who sold his brother’s daughter for forty-five percent of a real estate empire.”
