Ashes of San Miguel

Shadows of the past

Shadows of the Past

The dusk air hung thick and heavy, like it knew violence had just been carved into the evening. The slap across Alejandro’s cheek still burned, but not as much as the sting in his chest—the sting of betrayal, humiliation, and old wounds being reopened by familiar faces.

Walter stumbled back from Alejandro’s punch, clutching his jaw. Blood stained his bottom lip. He wiped it away with a sneer.

“That the best you’ve got, Jiménez?” he spat. “Still punching like the broke thug you’ve always been.”

Alejandro took a step forward, eyes dark, but Elena grabbed his arm.

“Stop,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Please… stop.”

He froze, chest heaving. His rage trembled beneath the surface, restrained only by the pleading in her eyes. When he finally let out a breath, it came out in a low growl of frustration. He looked down, ashamed—not of the punch, but of losing control in front of her.

Carmen rushed to Walter’s side, full of righteous fury. “How dare you lay a hand on him! You disgusting, useless man!”

She slapped Alejandro across the face, a sharp crack that echoed off the pavement.

Luis joined in, shoving Alejandro back. “Get lost! You had your chance, and you blew it.”

“I warned you,” Carmen hissed. “I warned Elena not to marry below her worth.”

Alejandro didn’t move. His hands hung at his sides, trembling.

“I told her,” Carmen continued, “she needed a man with power, with class—not some construction rat living on borrowed time.”

Alejandro’s eyes snapped to hers, burning.

“You think power makes a man?” he said coldly. “You think class comes with money and cheap suits?”

Carmen faltered, the intensity in his voice pressing down like a storm cloud.

“I’ve been quiet out of respect,” Alejandro continued. “But test me again, Carmen... and you’ll find out what happens when a Jiménez stops hiding.”

Her face blanched for a second—just long enough for her to take an involuntary step back.

But Elena placed a hand on Alejandro’s chest. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t.”

That broke him more than anything.

He stepped back, pain flickering in his eyes. “You always believed them, didn’t you? That I was small. Worthless.”

“I didn’t say that,” she whispered. “But I needed someone who could fight with me… not just survive.”

From behind, Walter chuckled, despite the blood. “She deserves better, Alejandro. Always has.”

Then, with a dramatic flourish, he pulled out a velvet box and opened it.

A diamond ring glittered in the fading light.

“Elena,” he said, loud enough for Carmen and Luis to hear, “when your divorce is final, I want you to marry me. I’ll give your family a new life. No more debt. No more begging.”

Carmen gasped, her hands to her mouth. “Oh my God… yes! Yes! Elena, say yes!”

Alejandro’s breath caught in his throat. His hands curled into fists again, but this time… he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Elena stared at the ring, her lips trembling. She said nothing.

Walter grinned like a conqueror and turned to Alejandro. “You’re invited, of course. I want you right there at the wedding—front row. You can watch what a real man looks like.”

Alejandro said nothing for a long moment. Then he smiled. A small, cold, terrifying smile.

“Tomorrow,” he said, voice low and sharp as a knife, “you’ll be the one begging for mercy.”

Walter laughed. “Big words from a man in dirty boots.”

Elena flinched at the insult.

“I’ve said what I needed to say,” Alejandro said. “You all made your choice.”

He turned without another word.

Elena watched him go, eyes brimming with tears, but said nothing. When the taxi arrived, she climbed in without looking back, her fingers digging into her lap.

Carmen blew a kiss to Walter and followed behind in another car, chattering excitedly with Luis about wedding venues and press coverage. Walter watched them all leave with a smug grin, then turned back to his car, spitting blood onto the pavement.

The street fell silent. More like he could hear a needle drop to the floor. His heart was crumbling and it was by the people he could surely go any lengths for.

And Alejandro stood alone.

He pulled a cigarette from his coat, lit it with shaking fingers, and took a long, slow drag. The taste was bitter. The pain sharper than ever.

He stared at the stars overhead—cold, distant things—and then reached for his phone.

A number he hadn’t dialed in eight years blinked on the screen.

He hesitated only a moment before pressing the call button. What if he wasn't ready to take his call? This was the fear or procastination that had let him be treated like a dog for years and now maybe_ it had to change.

It rang once.

Twice.

Then a gruff voice answered.

“...Carlos?”

A pause. Then: “It’s been a while, hermano.”

“I need you,” Alejandro said. “It’s time.”

“Are you sure?”

Alejandro took another drag, exhaled smoke into the dark.

“They’ve woken something I buried a long time ago.”

Carlos was quiet for a moment. “You want me to gather the old crew?”

“All of them,” Alejandro said. “And I want everything I left behind ready by dawn.”

Carlos let out a low whistle. “That includes—”

“Yes,” Alejandro cut in. “The documents. The weapons. And the car.”

Another beat of silence.

Then Carlos laughed. “So… the Lion wakes up at last.”

He was going to make all of them pay for this, they had treated him so bad that their trees was dealing with them in ways they couldnt control.

Alejandro crushed the cigarette under his heel. An old habit he had left hut now returned to, he was going to make sure everything they see they have a question to ask.

“They think they’ve seen rage,” he said. “But they haven’t seen the man behind the name.”

Carlos chuckled again, low and full of respect. “I’ll see you before sunrise, Jefe.”

The call ended.

Alejandro slid the phone back into his pocket.

And somewhere in the dark, behind the clouds, thunder began to rumble.