Chapter 27: Cracks in Power

Chapter 27: Cracks in Power

Amelia never thought she’d feel anything like fear again. She believed she had already faced everything that could break her, everything that could crush her. But seeing Julieta asleep on the couch that night, her head resting on the plush arm of the sofa and the DNA papers lying on the table, made her shiver.

It wasn’t fear of Diego.

It was fear of what might come next.

Because if Julieta was now part of the story, she was also part of the danger.

And the danger had a name: Esteban Serrano.

Ever since Amelia had publicly named him, the silence surrounding him had become too convenient. Too calculated. No one answered for him. No one mentioned him. It was as if he had vanished. But behind that calm, Amelia felt movement. Like an earthquake that hasn’t yet broken the surface but is already rumbling beneath the ground.

Carlos confirmed her suspicions.

—“Esteban transferred a large sum of money to a company in Guatemala. The firm is new. No one knows who runs it. But the legal representative appears in three other money laundering cases.”

—“You think he’s fleeing?” —Amelia asked.

—“I think he’s preparing. And I think he knows we’re coming after him.”

Amelia looked at him, unwavering.

—“Then we can’t stop now.”

Laura looked uneasy.

—“Are you sure you want to keep going with this? Wasn’t Diego enough?”

—“You know what’s worst about all this?” —Amelia replied—. “That if we don’t stop it, it’ll happen again. Esteban is the new Diego. Just more cautious. Colder.”

—“And more invisible,” —Laura added.

—“Exactly why we have to expose him.”

Julieta, who had been listening from the doorway, spoke with a firm voice.

—“I want to help.”

They both turned to her.

—“This isn’t your fight,” —Amelia said gently.

—“Yes, it is. He was part of my father’s circle. He stayed silent when he should’ve spoken. And if you risked everything for the truth, I’m not going to stand on the sidelines now that I know who I am.”

Amelia looked at her with pride and worry mixed in.

—“Then we’ll do it carefully. Step by step.”

Carlos arranged a secret meeting with a contact in the Financial Analysis Unit. They couldn’t risk Esteban having ears in the justice system. Diego had done it before.

—“We need to link him directly to the assets recovered from the Morales case,” —Carlos explained—. “If we prove he bought those properties indirectly, we can reopen the case with new charges.”

—“And if we can’t?” —Amelia asked—. “He’ll get away. And we’ll lose him.”

The contact, a middle-aged man with a gray beard and analytical eyes, nodded.

—“Let me see what I can find in the cross movements. I need time. But if there’s something, we’ll find it.”

During that wait, Julieta and Amelia began to connect genuinely. What started as tension and caution turned into trust. Amelia showed her childhood photos, talked about her fears, the nights she didn’t know whether to eat or cry, the times she thought she was going insane.

Julieta, in turn, shared painful memories. Her mother falling ill with no money for treatment. The letters she wrote but never sent. The guilt of carrying a surname she never had.

—“You don’t need to feel ashamed of existing,” —Amelia told her one afternoon as they drank coffee—. “You didn’t choose this. But now you can decide what to do with what you’ve inherited.”

Julieta gave a small smile.

—“And you… do you know what to do with what you have left?”

Amelia lowered her gaze.

—“I’m working on it.”

Days later, Carlos’s contact returned with news.

—“We found what you needed. Esteban used a network of companies to acquire at least five auctioned properties. He bought them at ridiculously low prices, just before they went to public listing. He did it with the help of mid-level officials. There are hidden payments, favors, everything documented.”

Carlos lit up.

—“Does this allow us to formally charge him?”

—“Yes. But there’s a problem. He’s no longer in the country.”

Amelia’s breath froze.

—“What?”

—“He left three days ago for the Dominican Republic. No return records. But one of his companies is listed as an investor on a private island. And the name of the main contact… is Rodrigo Méndez.”

Laura dropped the cup she was holding.

—“Rodrigo? Wasn’t he under surveillance?”

—“He was released on bail while his appeal is processed. Seems he’s back to acting as a middleman.”

Amelia closed her eyes.

—“Then this is worse than we thought. They’re rebuilding the empire abroad. Using new faces. New hands.”

Carlos took a deep breath.

—“There’s an option.”

—“What is it?”

—“Request an international arrest warrant. But for that we need to present the case publicly, with evidence. Expose him. Pressure with the media. Like you did before.”

Amelia thought about it for a few seconds.

Then she said:

—“Let’s do it.”

The report was published a week later.

A special investigation exposing Esteban Serrano as the new axis of the network Diego had left behind. It showed documents, cross-statements, financial records, testimonies from former employees. It included satellite images of the island where he was allegedly hiding, and a detailed map of the capital flow.

The headline was devastating:

“The Successor: How Esteban Serrano Is Reviving Diego Morales’s Empire from the Shadows.”

The media echoed it. Social networks exploded. And, just like before, power reacted.

But this time, with more fear.

The prosecutor’s office was forced to respond. A formal request to Interpol was issued. Involved officials were summoned. And for the first time, the public didn’t doubt Amelia. They believed her. Without her having to fight for every word.

It was Julieta who suggested the next step:

—“What if I speak out?”

—“You?”

—“Yes. I’m Diego’s daughter. Not legally, but biologically. I have the right to say his legacy doesn’t define me. That his allies don’t represent me. That I won’t be part of his chain of silences.”

Amelia hugged her without saying a word.

And the next day, Julieta appeared on a television program. There were cameras, lights, pointed questions. But she stood her ground.

—“I want people to know that being Diego Morales’s daughter doesn’t make me part of his crimes. What he left behind was a wound. But that wound won’t decide who I am. And I won’t let his allies keep causing harm.”

Social media supported her.

The press sought her out.

And people listened.

Amelia knew then that the story, though painful, could have new faces. That something different could grow from the mud. That not everything Diego left behind was rotten.

Julieta was proof of that.

And if Esteban Serrano thought he could bury them in silence, he was about to find out that this time, the earth wouldn’t cover his impunity.

It would spit it out.

It would scream it.

It would demand justice.