Chapter 9: The Second Testament
The interior of Vault 404 was bathed in the cool, amber glow of recessed LED lighting. Rows of safety deposit boxes lined the steel-reinforced walls, but Sebastián ignored most of them, his eyes zeroing in on a single black leather ledger resting on the central examination table.
He walked inside, leaving Octavio groaning on the floor outside under the watchful eye of a private bodyguard.
Sebastián picked up the black ledger. The cover was stamped with the official seal of the Monterrey Notarial Registry. He flipped it open, his eyes scanning the crisp, cream-colored pages filled with his late father’s unmistakable, sloping handwriting.
“If this document is opened,” the first page read, dated just three weeks before his father’s sudden death, “it means Rebeca has succeeded in isolating our son, Sebastián, and manipulating the corporate governance of Alcázar Industries. I leave my entire fifty-one percent voting block directly to Sebastián, free and clear of any spousal trusts or guardianship encumbrances.”
Sebastián’s breath caught in his throat. He turned the page.
There was his father’s signature—and beneath it, a certified medical toxicology report from a Swiss laboratory dated three days before his father’s passing.
Cause of death: Acute digitalis poisoning.
Slow-acting heart medication administered in lethal doses over a period of two months.
The room seemed to spin around Sebastián. The mother he had worshipped, the woman he had defended against every perceived slight, the matriarch who demanded absolute perfection from everyone around her... had murdered his father in cold blood to seize total control of the dynasty.
“Mr. Alcázar?” Don Ernesto’s timid voice echoed from the doorway of the vault. The older man was staring at the open pages with wide, terrified eyes, clearly realizing he had just stepped into a trap from which there was no escape. “Sir... what is that?”
Sebastián closed the ledger with a sharp snap that echoed off the metal walls. He tucked the black book firmly inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
“Don Ernesto,” Sebastián said, his voice terrifyingly calm, devoid of all human warmth. “Call the federal attorney general’s special investigative unit. Tell them the CEO of Alcázar Industries is filing an immediate criminal complaint for corporate fraud, elder abuse, and first-degree murder against Doña Rebeca Alcázar.”
Don Ernesto turned pale as death, fumbling for his phone as he backed out of the vault.
May you like
Sebastián stepped out into the hallway, looking down at his trembling cousin. Octavio was curled on the granite floor, clutching his wrist and staring up at him with unadulterated terror.
“You didn’t just help her steal a company, Octavio,” Sebastián whispered, stepping over him like he was garbage. “You helped her kill my father. And for that, there is no plea deal in this world that will save you.”
