Chapter 14: The Final Audit
The federal penitentiary outside Monterrey was cold, gray, and entirely removed from the opulent luxury Doña Rebeca Alcázar had commanded her entire life.
She sat behind the thick glass divider of the maximum-security visitation booth, wearing an orange jumpsuit that clashed violently with her aristocratic posture. Her hair was unstyled, her makeup gone, but her eyes remained sharp, burning with an unyielding, bitter malice.
The heavy metal door on the other side of the partition clicked open, and Sebastián walked in. He sat down slowly in the plastic chair, picking up the heavy black telephone receiver. Rebeca did the same.
Neither of them spoke for a long time. The glass separated them by only a few inches, but an entire universe of broken trust lay between them.
“You think you’ve won, don’t you?” Rebeca finally spoke, her voice raspy but carrying that familiar, biting edge of superiority. “You think tearing down the empire your father and I built makes you a hero. You’re just a boy playing a man’s game, Sebastián. Without the Alcázar name, you are nothing.”
Sebastián looked at the woman who had given him life, feeling neither anger nor hatred anymore—only a profound, hollow pity.
“The Alcázar name used to mean power built on vision and strength,” Sebastián said quietly into the receiver. “Now it stands for greed, forgery, and murder. You didn't build an empire, Mother. You built a prison, and you finally locked yourself inside it.”
Rebeca’s jaw tightened, a flash of genuine fury breaking through her frozen composure. “I protected this family from women like her! I secured your future!”
“No,” Sebastián interrupted, his voice steady and absolute. “You tried to destroy my future because you couldn't control it. But it’s over now. The trial starts next month, the prosecutors have your bank records, and the board has permanently stripped you of every single share.”
He stood up, adjusting his jacket, preparing to walk out of the visitation room forever.
“Goodbye, Mother,” Sebastián said softly.
May you like
Rebeca pressed her hand against the glass, her face twisting in pure rage. “Sebastián! You come back here! Sebastián!”
He didn't look back. He turned away from the glass, walked out through the heavy security doors, and stepped out into the brilliant, unobstructed sunlight of a brand new day.
