Chapter 2: Behind the Spotlight
1112 Words
Cameras ready!"
"Rolling!"
"Scene twenty-three, take one!"
The busy set immediately fell silent.
Dozens of staff members stood in position. Makeup artists rushed away from the camera frame while assistants checked the lighting one final time.
At the center of it all stood Spain's most sought-after actress.
Lilia David.
Or at least that was the name the public knew.
Nobody knew that beneath the glamorous image was Mhagi Flores—the sole heir of the Flores Mafia.
The little girl who had once cried over her parents' bodies was long gone. In her place stood a woman feared by enemies and admired by millions.
"Action!"
Tears immediately gathered in Lilia's eyes.
The cameras focused on her. Every emotion appeared natural. Every movement looked flawless.
Years of training had turned her into a master actress.
When she cried, people cried. When she smiled, audiences smiled. When she suffered, everyone believed it.
"How could you betray me?" she shouted at her co-star.
Her voice cracked perfectly. The pain looked real, raw, heartbreaking.
Several crew members exchanged impressed looks. Even after all these years, she continued to amaze everyone.
The scene lasted several minutes before the director finally raised his hand.
"Cut!"
The entire set erupted into applause.
"Perfect!"
The director stood from his chair.
"Absolutely perfect!"
Lilia immediately dropped the emotional expression.
The tears disappeared. The sadness vanished. As if someone had flipped a switch.
The director laughed.
"See? That's exactly why you're Spain's number one actress."
The crew nodded in agreement.
Lilia offered a polite smile.
"Thank you, Director."
"Take the rest of the afternoon off. You've earned it."
"Gladly."
The moment she stepped away from the cameras, her phone vibrated.
A familiar message appeared.
Target confirmed. Information acquired. Meet me now.
A small smile appeared on her lips.
Fathima.
Only one person would send messages that direct.
An hour later, Lilia entered a private lounge hidden behind one of Madrid's luxury hotels.
Fathima was already waiting.
The woman slid a folder across the table.
"I finally found it."
Mhagi's expression hardened. For years she had searched. For years she had hunted. For years she had waited.
Now the answer sat before her.
"Who?" she asked quietly.
Fathima crossed her arms.
"The operation twenty years ago wasn't ordered directly by Don Carlos Porter."
Mhagi's eyes narrowed.
"Continue."
"The attack was led by someone else."
Fathima opened the file, a photograph stared back at her.
A handsome man with cold and dangerous eyes.
"Piere Porter."
The name immediately filled the room with tension.
"The eldest grandson of Don Carlos."
Mhagi stared at the picture.
The man responsible for destroying her family. The man who stole her childhood. The man who murdered her parents.
Her fingers tightened around the file.
"So he's alive."
"Very much alive."
Fathima leaned forward.
"And if you ask me, he's about to regret it."
For several seconds, Mhagi remained silent. Then she smiled. A smile that never reached her eyes.
"Good."
That night, Madrid's most exclusive nightclub glowed beneath neon lights. Luxury cars lined the entrance. Celebrities, politicians, and businessmen filled the establishment.
Among them walked a woman wearing an elegant red dress. The dress hugged her figure perfectly without crossing into vulgarity. Her dark hair flowed freely behind her.
Every head turned as she entered. Lilia David had arrived. But tonight, she wasn't here as an actress.
She was here as a hunter.
Inside one of the VIP rooms sat Xavier Porter. The future head of the Porter Mafia. Unlike his older brother, Xavier preferred strategy over violence.
Where Piere used bullets, Xavier used manipulation. Where Piere fought wars, Xavier played chess.
And according to Fathima's investigation, Xavier knew more than he admitted.
Inside the VIP room, business discussions continued. Halix Torres sat beside him while several trusted men reviewed reports.
"The shipment arrived safely."
"Good."
"The southern territories remain stable."
"Good."
Xavier loosened his tie.
The conversations had become repetitive.
"I need a smoke."
Without waiting for a response, he stood and exited the room. A few moments later, he found himself on the outdoor terrace.
The city lights stretched endlessly before him.
As he lit his cigarette, movement nearby caught his attention. A woman stood alone near the railing. A thin trail of smoke escaped her lips.
She handled the cigarette like someone experienced. Not nervous. Not trying to impress anyone. Just relaxed. Confident.
Xavier found himself watching.
Strange.
Most women approached him. This one acted as if he didn't exist. She never even looked his way.
Eventually, Xavier flicked away his cigarette and returned to the VIP room. Business resumed. Until one of the men brought up an old topic.
"The Flores family."
The room immediately quieted.
Halix frowned.
"They've been silent for years."
"Exactly," another man said.
"Too silent."
Xavier leaned back.
Silence from weak organizations was normal. Silence from powerful organizations was dangerous.
Especially the Flores Mafia.
No one knew what they were planning. No one knew what they were hiding. And that uncertainty bothered everyone.
Meanwhile, Mhagi entered the crowded dance floor. Music blasted from massive speakers.
People danced.
Drank.
Celebrated.
She blended in perfectly. Laughing. Smiling. Pretending.
All while observing Xavier's every move.
Hours later, the Porter group finally left their room and approached the bar.
Mhagi immediately moved.
This was her opening.
She grabbed a random cocktail and pretended to stumble slightly. Perfect timing. As Xavier's drink arrived, she reached for it.
The bartender's eyes widened.
"Madam, that's not your—"
Too late. Mhagi had already taken a sip. She blinked dramatically. Then looked at the glass.
"Oh."
She turned toward Xavier.
"Oops."
The bartender looked horrified.
"Madam, that belongs to—"
Mhagi raised a hand.
"Sorry."
She reached for her purse.
"Put their order on my tab."
Then she smiled casually. A smile capable of making magazines sell out within hours.
Before anyone could respond, she walked away. Just like that. Leaving behind a very confused group of men.
One of Xavier's friends stared after her.
"Who is that?"
The bartender laughed.
"You seriously don't know?"
The men exchanged glances.
"That's Lilia David."
Recognition immediately flashed across several faces.
"The actress?"
"The actress."
The bartender nodded.
"She's famous for being different."
"Different how?"
The bartender shrugged.
"She doesn't care what people think."
"Critics hate her? Doesn't care."
"Rumors spread about her? Doesn't care."
"People talk behind her back? Doesn't care."
The group watched her disappear into the crowd. Meanwhile, Xavier remained silent. His eyes followed the woman in red.
For the first time all night, something had captured his attention and somewhere within the crowded nightclub, Mhagi Flores smiled.
Because step one of her revenge had officially begun.
- Writer
