37

37
Javier

The sun filtered through the cracks in the curtains, burning my skin as if it were divine punishment. I opened my eyes with difficulty, my head pounding as if someone were hammering my skull.
A bitter taste dominated my mouth, a reminder of how much I had drunk the night before. I sat up slowly, my body heavy, and ran my hands over my face in an attempt to shake off the fog of confusion.
The memories came in fragments: the celebration, the laughter, Camille helping me up the stairs. Her smile came to mind, but along with it, the recollection of the disapproving look when she realized just how out of control I had become. I sighed.
I couldn’t afford to appear weak, not to her, not to anyone.
I looked at the clock and cursed. In less than an hour, I had a meeting scheduled with Emilio Sandoval, one of Juan Carlos’s most dangerous allies. I still didn’t fully understand what he wanted, but I knew that any delay or hesitation would be seen as a sign of weakness—something I could not allow.
I stood up with difficulty, the world spinning for a moment before it stabilized. I entered the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, feeling the hangover punish me with every movement. The reflection in the mirror was of someone tired, but determined. It didn’t matter how I felt; the game never stopped.
When I went downstairs, I found Marco waiting for me in the hall. He was impeccable, as always, though the tension on his face indicated that he too was concerned about the meeting.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked, sizing me up carefully.
"I’m functional, which is enough," I replied, adjusting the collar of my shirt. "What’s the situation?"
Marco handed me a tablet with the information.
"Sandoval is expecting us at the La Torre restaurant. He was specific about the location, which means he probably wants to assert his territory."
I nodded. Sandoval was known for being calculating, someone who loved manipulating scenarios so that they always seemed to be in his favor.
"And the security?"
"I’ve checked everything. No obvious threats, but I doubt he came without his men."
"Great. Let’s show him we’re no different."
The La Torre restaurant was located in a luxurious building in the city center. We entered like a storm, Marco and two of my men flanking me. The maître led us to a reserved area, where Sandoval was already seated.
He was exactly as I remembered: a middle-aged man, neatly combed gray hair, and a smile that never reached his eyes. He stood up when he saw me, opening his arms as if I were an old friend.
"Javier!" he exclaimed, with fake enthusiasm. "What a pleasure to finally meet."
"Sandoval," I greeted, extending my hand. His grip was firm, but there was something calculated in his movements.
We sat down, and soon the conversation began, full of pleasantries that bordered on sarcasm. He complimented my "growth" in business and insinuated that Juan Carlos was impressed with my ability to solve problems.
"But of course, there’s always room for improvement, right?" he said with a cold smile.
"Always," I agreed, keeping my expression neutral. "And I’m sure this meeting will help us find a mutually beneficial path."
He laughed, but his eyes studied me as if they wanted to dissect every word.
"Certainly. Now, tell me, Javier, what do you think about loyalty?"
"I think it’s a valuable currency," I replied, maintaining my calm. "But like all currency, it needs to be invested wisely."
"I agree," he said, leaning forward. "And that’s exactly why I’m here. I want to make sure your 'currency' is being invested in the right side."
The implicit threat was clear, but I kept my posture. I knew any slip-up would be an invitation for him and Juan Carlos to take advantage.
"Sandoval, we both know you didn’t come here just to exchange pleasantries," I said, leaning back in my chair, my gaze fixed on the man in front of me. "Let’s cut the formalities."
Sandoval tilted his head, a tense smile appearing on his lips.
"Always straight to the point, aren’t you, Javier? It’s a rare quality. But tell me, what do you want from me?"
"I want you on my side," I replied, the firmness in my voice making it clear I wasn’t making a suggestion.
Sandoval raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised.
"Interesting. And what exactly would I gain from this?"
"Much more than Juan Carlos has ever offered you," I leaned forward, my tone lower but loaded with intent. "Money, territory, freedom. Working with me means you’ll have control over the most profitable routes, without having to worry about the arbitrary conditions he imposes."
"Control is something I already have," Sandoval replied, his expression unwavering. "And freedom? We all know it doesn’t exist in our world, Javier."
I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head.
"Control? With Juan Carlos pulling the strings? Let’s be honest, Sandoval. You’re a luxury puppet, and he’s just waiting for the right moment to cut you out of the operations."
Sandoval’s smile faded for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure.
"Those are bold words, Javier. Words that could have serious consequences."
"And you think I care?" I retorted, my voice sharp. "I play to win, Sandoval. You can keep being a pawn in Juan Carlos’s game, or you can join me and ensure your name is remembered as someone who made history."
Sandoval rested his elbows on the table, narrowing his eyes.
"You think only benefits will be enough to convince me? You underestimate the value of loyalty."
"Loyalty?" A sarcastic laugh escaped me. "Juan Carlos doesn’t know that word. The day you’re no longer useful to him will be the day you cease to exist. With me, it’s different. I protect mine. Those who are by my side have security, growth, and respect."
"And if I say no?" Sandoval challenged, the tension in the air almost palpable.
I smiled.
"Then you’ll be choosing the wrong side of the war. And when the dust settles, it will be too late to change your mind."
The silence that followed was long, each word seeming to weigh heavily in the air.
"You’re a dangerous man, Javier," Sandoval finally said, his tone ambiguous.
"And you’re a smart man," I replied, my confidence unshaken. "Think carefully, Sandoval. I don’t make offers twice."
Sandoval didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes told me the seeds of doubt had been planted. The game was just beginning.
The meeting continued like this, a verbal chess match where every word was carefully chosen. In the end, we left without a clear agreement, but both of us knew the real game was just beginning.
When we returned to the car, Marco looked at me, concerned.
"He’s testing you, Javier."
"I know. But he won’t see a single slip-up," I assured him, my voice firm.
As the car pulled away from the restaurant, I looked out the window, the weight of future decisions settling on my shoulders. Camille, the baby, my territory… everything was at stake, and I couldn’t allow anyone to see my weaknesses.