CHAPTER 6
977 Words
Insomnia didn't arrive all at once. It settled in like a persistent, slow, inevitable dampness. Valeria spent the night with her eyes wide open, counting the cracks in the ceiling, listening to the house's slightest sounds: the air conditioning, a distant footstep, the creak of the wood. Every noise seemed to confirm what she already knew: she wasn't alone, even when no one was watching her.
At dawn, she made a decision.
It wasn't brave. It was necessary.
She got up before Damián. She showered without turning on the bathroom light, as if the darkness could protect her. She dressed simply, almost invisibly. Nothing that would draw attention. Nothing that looked like a gesture of rebellion.
Before leaving the room, she checked her phone. No new messages. With Damián, that was never a good sign.
She went down the stairs slowly. In the kitchen, the staff was already in motion. No one looked at her more than necessary. No one asked where she was going. In that house, asking was also a form of disobedience.
"I'm going out for a bit," she said, as if talking to herself.
The driver looked up.
"Does Mr. Alvarado know?"
Valeria held his gaze.
"He will."
The car moved through the city, which was still half-asleep. San Esteban at that hour seemed honest, almost human. No traffic. No cameras fully turned on. No speeches.
She asked to be dropped off two blocks from the building. She did the rest on foot.
The sign didn't say anything ostentatious. Just a discreet name: Soler & Rivas Communications. No one who didn't know what happened there would understand the true reach of that place. Valeria did. Because Julia Rivas didn't build empires: she infiltrated them.
Julia was waiting in her office. She always arrived before everyone else. She was always ready.
"I knew you'd come," she said as soon as she saw her. "It was only a matter of time."
Valeria closed the door behind her.
"I don't have much," she replied. "No evidence. No margin for error."
Julia watched her intently. Not with pity. With calculation.
"That's perfect," she said. "Desperate women make mistakes. Tired women... they make plans."
They sat face to face. Two cups of coffee. No smiles.
"Damián is watching me," Valeria continued. "I don't know how much he knows. But he knows more than he should."
"He always does," Julia countered. "That's why we have to use his excess of control against him."
She stood up and opened a folder.
"I have journalists, editors, data analysts. What I don't have is a real c***k in his armor. Something he can't erase with one phone call."
Valeria took a deep breath.
"I can get that."
Julia looked at her for the first time with genuine surprise.
"How?"
"By listening," she replied. "By observing. By keeping record. Damián talks when he believes no one is challenging him."
Julia smiled faintly.
"Welcome to the uncomfortable side of silence."
At that moment, someone knocked on the door.
"Come in," Julia said.
A young man entered. Cheap suit. Anxious look. A dangerous mix of ambition and ignorance.
"Valeria," Julia said, "this is Tomás. Our new intern."
Tomás smiled nervously.
"It's an honor to meet you," he said. "My mother followed your career when you were modeling."
Valeria maintained her smile.
"That was another life."
Julia watched the scene with interest.
"Tomás is brilliant," she continued. "Too much for this place. But he doesn't know it yet."
The young man laughed awkwardly.
"I just want to learn."
Julia looked at him fixedly.
"Learning has a cost."
Tomás nodded, without fully understanding.
Valeria felt a strange pang. Something about that boy reminded her of how easy it was to be used when you still believed that talent was enough.
"I need you to be discreet," Julia told him. "And obedient."
"Of course," he replied. "Whatever is necessary."
Poor thing, Valeria thought. He still doesn't know what he just agreed to.
They spent the morning reviewing strategies. Julia spoke of timing, of staggered leaks, of indirect narratives. Nothing frontal. Nothing immediate. In San Esteban, the truth had to look like an accident.
"We aren't going to destroy him all at once," she explained. "First we weaken him. Then we see who dares to give the final push."
Valeria listened. She learned. For the first time in years, her mind was working for something other than survival.
When she left the building, the sun was already high. Her phone vibrated.
A message from Damián.
"Where are you?"
She took her time to respond.
"With Julia."
The reply was immediate.
"Come back."
Valeria gripped her phone.
"No."
There was a long silence. Too long.
The next message was simple.
"Don't force my hand."
Valeria put the phone away without responding. Her heart was beating fast, but not out of fear. Out of clarity.
Upon arriving home, the atmosphere had changed. There were no shouts. No reproaches. That was worse.
Damián was waiting in the study.
"Are you finished?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Was it worth it?"
Valeria looked at him.
"You don't know that yet."
He approached slowly.
"Don't play games with me," he said. "You don't hold the cards."
"I'm gathering them."
Damián smiled. Not with mockery. With anticipation.
"Be careful," he whispered. "Sometimes, when a woman thinks she's found her voice... she's only choosing how she will be silenced."
Valeria held his gaze.
"And sometimes," she replied, "silence learns to scream."
She turned around and walked out of the study.
Damián was left alone. He pulled out his phone. He dialed a number that didn't appear in his contacts.
"Activate Plan B," he said. "And watch Julia. And the intern."
He hung up.
Because if Valeria had taken her first step, he was already preparing the next one.
And neither of them intended to back down.
- Writer
