Chapter 9

I found the red key inside Ivy’s stuffed bear.
My mother had hidden it there.
Nobody searched the twins’ toys.
Another lesson about who powerful people overlook.
Ivy watched me remove it from a loose seam.
“Grandma said don’t tell Mommy.”
I looked at her.
“You did the right thing.”
Her eyes filled.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“Grandma?”
“No.”
“Owen?”
“No.”
She looked relieved.
Three questions.
Three people she thought might be punished because she told the truth.
That was Celina’s real damage.
Not hunger alone.
The expectation that honesty hurt someone you loved.
I took the key downstairs.
Rafael and Martin came with me under guard.
Celina did too.
Teresa stayed upstairs with the children.
I would not make her walk into another old Serrano room to prove anything.
The red key opened a steel door beneath the wine cellar.
Inside were six old burner phones.
A wooden box containing three family seals.
My father’s emergency contact book remained untouched.
I did not open it.
I looked at Celina.
“This is what you wanted.”
She stared at the phones.
“Yes.”
No denial.
“Why?”
“Because your council challenge was coming.”
I turned toward Rafael.
He looked away.
“When?”
“Two weeks.”
There it was.
They had already chosen a date.
“What happens?”
Rafael swallowed.
“We ask you to restore an elder council.”
“And if I refuse?”
Silence.
Celina answered.
“They withdraw support.”
I almost smiled.
“That is their right.”
She looked genuinely frustrated.
“You don’t understand.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You don’t.”
I pointed at the phones.
“If half my captains leave because I refuse to be controlled, then half my captains should leave.”
Celina stared.
“You’d risk the organization?”
“I’d risk a smaller organization.”
That terrified her.
Because her entire plan depended on me being afraid of losing power.
I looked at Rafael.
“Did you ever consider I might choose family over size?”
He said nothing.
My father built contingency networks because he feared fracture.
Celina built cruelty because she assumed I feared it too.
May you like
Maybe I had.
Not anymore.