Ashes of San Miguel

The Mask Comes Off

The gates of the Jiménez ancestral estate groaned open under the moonlit sky, revealing a mansion veiled in shadows—timeless, cold, and untouched by time. Alejandro stood at the threshold, the same place he had once bled as a teenager when his stepmother tried to kill him. That night, he had left behind a name, a family, and a legacy.

Now, he was ready to take it back.

Carlos stepped out of the car behind him. “You’re sure about this? Once your name resurfaces, there’s no hiding anymore.”

Alejandro didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed on the iron gates, his voice low and firm. “They took everything from me. My name. My dignity. Now I’m going to take everything from them.”

He turned, eyes burning with purpose.

“And Elena... I loved her. I would’ve given her the world. But if she chose money over loyalty, she’s going to learn what it feels like to lose everything she thought she gained.”

Carlos gave a grim nod. “The lawyers are ready. Within 72 hours, you’ll legally reclaim your seat on the Jiménez business council. And the stock buyout for Cuatro Mares—”

“Make sure it’s discreet,” Alejandro said. “They won’t even see it coming until I own half their board.”

Back at the Velázquez estate, Carmen paced the marble floor like a restless lioness. Walter leaned on the couch, sipping whiskey.

“Elena’s unstable,” Carmen snapped. “She’s getting cold feet.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Walter replied, more to himself than to her. “She knows what’s at stake. And if she doesn’t… I’ll make sure she remembers.”

As if summoned by the tension, the door opened.

Elena stepped in, shaken, still wearing the same clothes from the pier. Her eyes flicked between them.

“We need to talk,” she said, her voice unsteady. “Joaquín Salgado found me tonight.”

Walter sat up, alert. “What?”

“He told me Alejandro’s not who we think he is.”

Carmen’s face hardened. “He’s manipulating you. That’s what men like him do—pretend to be victims so you’ll crawl back.”

Elena stared at the floor. “But what if he’s telling the truth? What if... he let me walk away because he knew I’d come back?”

Walter stood, walking toward her. “You’re here with us now. And if Alejandro wants a war, he’ll get one. Just remember—you don’t belong with a man who hides behind lies and poverty.”

Elena didn’t answer.

Her silence echoed louder than any scream.

The next day, the city buzzed with rumors.

An anonymous investor had begun purchasing large amounts of Cuatro Mares Corporation shares. Board members were being summoned. Financial media speculated, whispered.

Inside Cuatro Mares HQ, Joaquín Salgado slammed a report onto his desk. “Who the hell is this 'Luz Holdings'? They’ve bought 22% of our shares in less than 48 hours!”

Jaime, bruised and bandaged, shifted nervously in his seat. “It’s a shell company. Untraceable—so far.”

Salgado’s jaw clenched. “We need to stop this before they get to 30%. Call the Velázquez family. We need backup.”

But it was already too late.

That evening, Alejandro arrived at the rooftop restaurant of the Grand Paloma Hotel—invited there by Elena, who had messaged him in a moment of confusion, asking to talk.

She sat alone at a table by the edge, dressed elegantly but with tired eyes.

He approached in silence. When she looked up, her breath caught. He wasn’t wearing the oil-stained work shirt anymore.

He wasn't the Alejandro she had seen at the Hotel that day when he had come and was given those divorce papers.

He wore a tailored black suit. A silver watch. And an aura of silent power she hadn’t seen before.

Or maybe because she had never wanted to notice before because of how minute they all thought he was.

“You came,” she said, unsure. She was ceryian he wasn't going to come at least.

“I wanted to see your face,” he said, taking the seat opposite her. “I wanted to see how far you’d fallen for money you never earned.”

Her jaw tightened. “You don’t understand what my family’s going through.” She said trying not to look at him because somehow those words beat her controled brain.

“I understand perfectly,” he replied. “You sold your dignity to a man who offered you a price. But let me ask you—what happens when that price is matched?”

She looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

He leaned in, voice low and dangerous.

“What if I gave your family fifty million pesos tomorrow? Would that be enough to buy your love back?”

She blinked, stunned.

He continued, coldly, “Would it make me your husband again? Or are you like Carmen—willing to sell your soul to the highest bidder?”

Elena’s voice cracked. “Stop. That’s not fair—”

“I loved you,” he said sharply. “When you were broke, when you cried about your father, when you were lost—I stood by you. And you left me like I was nothing.”

Tears formed in her eyes, but he didn’t flinch.

“Now?” he said. “Now I want you to feel what it’s like to be discarded. Forgotten.”

She looked at him, heart breaking. “What happened to you?”

“I woke up,” he replied.

Then he stood, and handed her an envelope.

Inside: proof of his identity. Bank statements. His black credit card. Shares in multiple companies. A note with one line:

“You married a king and treated him like a beggar.”

She stared at it, mouth trembling.

Alejandro walked away.

And just as he exited the hotel, Carlos met him outside with a phone in hand.

“They took the bait,” Carlos said. “Velázquez thinks Salgado Holdings is leaking internal files. He’s furious.”

Alejandro smiled darkly. “Let them turn on each other. The empire will fall from within.”

Carlos hesitated. “One more thing… We intercepted a call. Elena... she’s meeting with Walter tonight. Alone.”

Alejandro’s eyes narrowed.

“Where?”

Carlos handed him a location pin. “His private villa. 9 p.m.”

Alejandro lit a cigarette, took a deep breath, and crushed it under his heel.

“Then it’s time she learns what betrayal really costs.”