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CHAPTER 472
The office door slammed so hard that the glass shelves rattled. "Maldición!" Don Marcelo swept the glass of tequila off his desk. It shattered against the wall. Amber liquid splashed across expensive wood and polished marble. Nobody entered. Nobody dared. The guards outside heard the crash and immediately looked away. Because everyone knew what it meant. Marcelo was furious, truly furious. Not the calculated anger he showed rivals. Not the cold rage he weaponized against enemies. This was different... it was personal and raw. Humiliating even. For years he had planned, he had waited... for years he had watched Thiago Andreas from a distance. Patiently and carefully, like a hunter watching his prey. And now, when victory was finally within reach... his idiot son had managed to get himself captured. Marcelo cursed again. Louder this time. The sound echoed through the room. He grabbed the edge of the desk and lowered his head. His breathing was
CHAPTER 471
For several seconds, Marcelo said nothing. His fingers tightened around the armrest of his chair. The office suddenly felt smaller, colder and dangerous. Finally he spoke. "Say that again." "I have your son." Thiago's voice remained steady, measured and certain. Marcelo slowly rose to his feet. His heartbeat had not increased. His breathing had not changed. But something else had. His certainty. Because Harrera was protected always, his every route, every vehicle... every destination, even movement all fully protected. There were guards who would die before allowing anyone near him. Entire teams dedicated to his safety. Protocols. Contingencies. Layers upon layers of security. And yet... Thiago sounded absolutely convinced. Marcelo walked toward the window overlooking the sprawling grounds of his hacienda. His mind immediately began working. Who? How? When? No answer came. Only questions. For the first time in years, Don Marcelo He
CHAPTER 470
Elias Smith did not travel, he didn't need to, instead, he moved. And when he moved, consequences followed him like shadows. Somewhere outside the borders of Mexico City, in a place that did not appear on official maps, a small black van slowed to a stop. Inside it sat a young man, bound, gagged looking rather confused and furious, it was Don Marcelo’s son. Harrera Marcelo. His eyes darted wildly as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, but the blindfold robbed him of certainty. Then the door opened. A calm voice spoke. “Relax.” Harrera froze. The voice was unfamiliar, it wasn't Mexican. It was not emotional, not loud, just controlled. Then the blindfold was removed. And Harrera blinked rapidly into the light. Standing in front of him was a man he had never seen before. Dark coat. Expressionless face. Eyes that carried no hesitation. No fear. Only decision. The man crouched slightly. Studying him the way a surgeon studies a patient.
CHAPTER 469
Thiago Andreas felt powerless, not angry, not furious. Not calculating. Powerless. And that terrified him more than anything. The Andreas estate had become a fortress. Armed men patrolled the grounds. Vehicles came and went through the night. Phones rang constantly. Information flowed in from every corner of Mexico. Yet none of it mattered. Because Juliana was still gone. And every passing hour felt like a knife turning deeper inside his chest. Thiago sat alone in his study. The same study where he had signed million-dollar contracts. The same study where rival businessmen had begged for mercy. The same study where countless crises had been solved through strategy and patience. Tonight... it felt like a prison. A glass of untouched whiskey sat beside him. His cigar had long burned out. The room was dark except for a single lamp. On his desk lay a photograph, Juliana age ten. Missing two front teeth. Laughing uncontrollably after falling in
CHAPTER 468
The room smelled of blood, dust, and old wood. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, swaying slightly whenever the wind rattled the walls of the compound. Its pale glow illuminated the man tied to the chair. Andrew sat motionless. His wrists were bound tightly behind his back. A bruise darkened one side of his jaw. Dried blood stained the corner of his mouth. His ribs hurt every time he breathed. But despite everything... he refused to look defeated. Refused. The guards surrounding him hated that. Most captives pleaded, begged but most captives broke. Andrew simply stared back. And that somehow irritated them more. The heavy door opened, every guard immediately straightened. Don Marcelo entered looking calm, elegant and confident. As though he owned the very air in the room. Behind him followed two armed men. Marcelo looked at Andrew for several seconds. Studying him, evaluating him and then he sighed dramatically. "Look at you." Andrew
CHAPTER 467
The silence inside the Andreas estate was far more dangerous than shouting. No one dared speak. No one dared move. Every man in the room understood exactly what had happened. Juliana Andreas had been taken. Not by criminals seeking money. Not by opportunists. Not by random enemies. She had been taken by Don Marcelo and that changed everything. Because Don Marcelo had not just kidnapped a woman. He had declared war. Thiago Andreas stood motionless beside the table. The photographs remained spread before him. Each image felt like a knife. Juliana struggling. Masked men dragging her away. Fear in her eyes. Helplessness. The one thing Thiago had sworn his daughter would never experience. For years he had protected her from the darkness surrounding his world. He had made enemies. Destroyed rivals. Built alliances. Created power. All so that his children could live safely. And now... One mistake. One trip home. One moment. And his
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