Ashes of San Miguel

Hidden Blade

The Hidden Blade

That night, Alejandro stood on the balcony of a modest hotel room—not the grand estate he once called home, but something simple, quiet. The city below sparkled like a bed of stars. But behind those lights were shadows… and he had lived among them long enough to know how cruel they could be.

Carlos leaned against the wall behind him, arms crossed, watching his old friend with a wary eye.

“You sure you want to go this far?” he asked.

Alejandro exhaled a long trail of smoke into the cool air. “They took everything from me, Carlos. My name. My future. Even my love.”

Carlos hesitated. “You still love her, don’t you?”

Alejandro’s jaw clenched. “I hate what she did. But love like that… it doesn’t die. It burns.”

Carlos stepped forward and handed him another document.

“Here’s what we’ve got on the Hernández family's debt,” he said. “Turns out, they owe nearly twenty-two million pesos to a cartel-connected lender—El León del Norte. Dangerous people. The loan defaulted two weeks ago. They’re living on borrowed time.”

Alejandro’s brow furrowed as he scanned the pages. “They went to the cartel?”

Carlos nodded grimly. “And now Walter’s playing hero to bail them out—for a price.”

Alejandro shook his head. “She thinks she’s saving them… but she’s only trading one trap for another.”

Carlos sighed. “She’ll find out the hard way.”

Alejandro looked at him. “No. She won’t.”

Meanwhile, at the luxurious Velázquez penthouse, Elena sat alone on a velvet couch, staring at a glass of wine she hadn’t touched. Carmen and Luis were in the next room, celebrating Walter’s offer like they'd already won the lottery.

“Mom,” Elena called, finally speaking up.

Carmen popped her head in, beaming. “Yes, darling?”

“Do you think Alejandro will be okay?” she still missed her husband, he had trued his best to make her helot on many turns and just maybe if she hadn't betrayed him this way.

Carmen’s smile faded slightly. “Why do you care? That man has done nothing for you. He’s poor. He’s lazy. He’s useless.” her mother barked ready to make sure she knew she didn't have to keep her mind on a man who could to give them the kind of money they wanted.

Elena looked down at her hands. “Maybe… maybe I was wrong about him.”

Luis entered the room with a scoff. “Too late for regret now. Walter’s your future.”

“But I didn’t say yes to him yet,” Elena whispered.

Luis laughed. “He offered you everything. Thirty million. A new life. What more do you want?”

Elena stood up. “Love. I want love.” Alejandro had given her love and she had felt it every moment.

Carmen rolled her eyes. “Love won’t pay our debts. Love won’t save your father’s house.”

“Maybe not,” Elena said quietly. “But at least Alejandro never treated me like a deal.”

The room went quiet.

Luis glared. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of going back to that loser.”

“I don’t know what I’m thinking,” Elena said, tears filling her eyes. “But when Walter touched me today, I didn’t feel safe. I felt… bought.”

Back in the city, Alejandro walked into a shadowed café near the outskirts. The place smelled of tobacco and secrets. He sat at a corner booth, where a man in his sixties waited, draped in a sharp grey suit.

“You’re early,” the man said.

“You owe me a favor,” Alejandro replied. “It’s time to cash it in.”

The man nodded. “What do you need?”

“I want a list of every company Velázquez owns. I want to find their weakest link—the one move that will break their spine without them seeing it coming.”

The man smirked. “Still playing chess, I see.”

Alejandro leaned forward. “I’m done playing. I’m taking the king.”

The next morning, chaos erupted at the Cuatro Mares Corporation when news leaked that a major investor had pulled out of a multi-billion-peso project. Stocks began to tumble. Panic spread among the upper management. Joaquín Salgado called emergency meetings, but no one knew where the leak had come from.

Alejandro sat in a small room, watching the news unfold.

“That’s strike one,” he murmured.

Carlos chuckled from behind him. “And they don’t even know it was you.”

Alejandro’s phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number:

“You think we don’t know who you are, Jiménez? You’ll be dead before you reach thirty percent ownership.”

He showed it to Carlos.

Carlos cursed under his breath. “They’re moving fast.”

Alejandro smiled coldly. “Let them come.”

That evening, Elena received a letter delivered to her hotel room. It was handwritten, the ink neat, deliberate. She opened it slowly.

“You were never just a pawn to me. You were my heart.

But since I was never enough, let me prove it to you another way.

By the end of this week, Walter Velázquez won’t be a man you run to…

He’ll be a man begging for salvation.

– A.”

Elena clutched the letter to her chest, her heart pounding. She didn’t know what Alejandro was doing… but she knew him well enough to feel the storm coming.

She knew he was poor and useless but when he placed his mind on something especially work she knew he could break even gravel with his hands and not even for a moment feel pain.

Later that night, Alejandro returned to his hotel. As he stepped into the darkened hallway, he paused. Something was off.

Too quiet.

He reached into his jacket—where he always kept a blade—and turned the corner cautiously.

Then—

A gunshot.

It missed him by inches, hitting the wall behind.

Two masked men charged.

Alejandro fought back hard, slashing one across the chest and elbowing the other into a wall. He darted into the stairwell, blood trickling from a cut on his arm.

The attackers followed, relentless.

Down the stairwell he ran, until he reached the basement. Lights flickered. Pipes hissed.

Then, a voice echoed through the shadows:

“You should’ve stayed dead, Jiménez.”

Alejandro turned, breathing hard.