—What documents?
—Those linked to the line of succession... and to the actual ownership structure of the towers.
A heavy silence fell over the office.
Amira narrowed her eyes.
That was no coincidence.
That was surgical.
Someone didn't just want to weaken the company.
I wanted to legally take his heart.
—Who had access?
—The list is short —said the lawyer—. You. His father. I. Y...
The office door opened without knocking.
Everyone tensed.
Zafir entered.
No llevaba el traje ceremonial de la noche anterior. Ahora vestía de negro absoluto: pantalón oscuro, camisa cerrada hasta el cuello, botas limpias, sin joyas, sin reloj visible. La pashmina seguía cubriéndole el rostro.
Su presencia cambió el aire.
No necesitó elevar la voz.
—Y Khalil —terminó él, como si ya supiera lo que iban a decir.
Amira lo miró fijo.
—¿Por qué dices eso?
Zafir caminó hasta una de las pantallas y apoyó la mano sobre el escritorio.
—Porque a las 2:13 de la mañana alguien intentó entrar al servidor espejo desde una cuenta secundaria asociada a la oficina privada de mi hermano mayor.
Los abogados se quedaron rígidos.
Amira sintió el pulso golpearle las sienes.
—¿Cómo sabes eso?
Zafir giró apenas la cabeza.
La rendija oscura donde deberían estar sus ojos parecía observarlo todo.
—Porque llevo diez años vigilando a mi familia.
The silence became dense.
Dangerous.
Amira straightened up.
—Everyone out.
—Madam, but...
—Now.
The lawyers did not argue.
In less than thirty seconds, the office was empty.
Only the two of them remained.
The heiress.
The man in the mask.
The husband who was still practically unknown.
And a truth that was finally beginning to bleed.
II
—Start talking —Amira said.
Zafir was not offended.
He didn't rush.
He only walked towards the window that overlooked the interior garden of the mansion and observed the fountains, the cypresses, the artificial calm of the houses where the worst secrets are hidden.
—My father and yours didn't just do business together —he finally said—. They built a network. Contracts, ports, energy, telecommunications, private security... too much money for the government not to want to get involved. And too much power for the partners not to want to betray them.
Amira crossed her arms.
—I already know that.
—No. You know the pretty version.
He turned to her.
—The truth is that ten years ago someone tried to eliminate two heirs in one fell swoop.
Amira felt the air get stuck.
—What are you talking about?
—From the plane crash where my mother died.
The way he said it made the temperature of the room seem to drop.
—It wasn't an accident.
