Alma's Own

CHAPTER 14

The evening air over the city carried a cool breeze, brushing against the terraces of the penthouse. Inside, the Soler family had gathered for what Víctor called a “strategic meeting,” though Alma had long learned that family gatherings were seldom about clarity, they were stages for power, observation, and subtle sabotage. Tonight, however, the tension was thicker, more dangerous.

Alma had sensed the shift from the moment she stepped into the penthouse. Carmen’s sharp eyes followed her from the doorway; Aitana’s lips curled with faint, dismissive amusement. Even the other socialite siblings, normally lost in chatter and fashion, had drawn closer, watching every movement she made.

Víctor sat at the head of the long mahogany table, papers and tablets neatly arranged before him. His eyes were dark, assessing, calculating, betraying the suspicion that had grown since the gallery encounter. Alma, calm yet alert, took her seat near the middle, positioning herself so she could observe Daniel without drawing attention.

“Let’s begin,” Víctor said, voice low and precise, carrying authority even in casual speech. “We have decisions to make, accounts to review, and plans to finalize. And yet…” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “Some things do not align as they should.”

Alma’s pulse quickened slightly, though her face remained neutral. The subtle weight of his gaze felt like steel. She knew every step, every movement, was being recorded, not just by him, but by the sisters and loyal staff watching her reactions.

Carmen cleared her throat, stepping forward. “Víctor, perhaps it’s a matter of timing? Some things are simply delayed.” Her tone was polite, but the undercurrent of impatience was obvious. She glanced at Alma, eyes flashing with thinly-veiled contempt. “Some people are less efficient at adapting to the rhythm of this family.”

Alma held her composure, responding with a smile that was polite but firm. “Adaptation takes observation,” she said softly, her words measured. “And I find that patience often produces better outcomes than haste.”

Aitana giggled lightly, exchanging a look with Carmen. “Well, some of us were born into efficiency,” she said lightly, as if brushing Alma aside. “It comes naturally. One doesn’t always learn it after the fact.”

Víctor’s eyes, dark and piercing, flicked between his sisters and Alma. “Enough,” he said, his tone crisp. “This is not a discussion about efficiency. Alma, you understand the stakes, correct?”

Alma nodded, voice steady. “I understand entirely.” Inside, she felt the familiar thrill, the game was escalating, and the stakes were becoming higher. Each word, each glance, each subtle test was a thread she could pull to reveal the whole tapestry.

Daniel, leaning slightly back in his chair, watched silently. His thoughts were conflicted, part of him wanted to speak, but another part recognized the precision in her gaze, the unshakable resolve. She’s no ordinary player, he thought. And if she missteps, she’s still dangerous enough to cause more chaos than any of us expect.

Víctor leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “I’ve reviewed the recent financial statements. Some discrepancies appear unusual. Alma, you were responsible for overseeing this segment last week. Care to explain?”

Alma’s eyes flicked to the papers momentarily, then back to him. She had anticipated such scrutiny, rehearsed every line of defense. “I noticed the same discrepancies,” she said, calm and precise. “They are minor, procedural errors, easily rectified. I have already drafted corrective measures and will implement them immediately.”

Víctor’s lips pressed into a thin line, measuring, testing. “Minor errors?” His voice carried an edge now, suspicion creeping forward. “The timing of these errors is curious. Especially considering the recent events.”

Alma met his gaze evenly. “Curious, yes. But never intentional.” She allowed her voice to carry the weight of sincerity, masking the calculations beneath.

Carmen’s lips thinned further. “Of course,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “But it’s remarkable how often curiosity seems to follow certain people.” She gave Alma a pointed look, an invisible challenge.

Daniel’s hand brushed against Alma’s under the table, a subtle gesture, almost imperceptible to others, signaling both caution and reassurance. She’s handling this far better than I could have imagined, he thought, admiration mingling with his lingering concern. And yet something told him this was far from over.

Víctor’s eyes narrowed. “Carmen, Aitana, you will step back. This is not about petty grievances or personal opinions. Alma, I am watching closely. Do not underestimate the importance of this warning.”

Alma inclined her head slightly, holding the perfect mask of respect. “I would never.”

Víctor stood abruptly, the authority in his stance undeniable. “This family survives through precision, loyalty, and understanding. Mistakes—deliberate or otherwise—are not forgiven easily. You understand that, Alma?”

“Yes,” she replied softly, her internal voice already calculating the next moves. Not forgiven, indeed. But neither is justice ignored.

The meeting ended with the sisters exchanging frustrated glances. Carmen’s whispered hiss to Aitana as they left the room made Alma’s ears perk up: “We’ll see how long she lasts; she thinks she can play us all.”

Alma’s lips curved into a private, sharp smile. They didn’t know what they were dealing with.

Later, she found Daniel in the private gallery, away from prying eyes. Their encounter was brief but loaded. The faint glow of the city lights filtered through the tall windows, casting shadows that flickered across the marble floors.

“Víctor is suspicious,” Daniel said quietly, almost a whisper. “More than usual. I saw it in the way he measured your answers, the way he leaned forward, it wasn’t curiosity this time. It was calculation. He’s starting to connect dots.”

Alma’s gaze softened for a fleeting moment, just enough for Daniel to notice. “I expected as much. Suspicion is part of the dance. Yet, would he act on it before I’m ready?” She wondered, seemly worried for the first time in her life as a Soler.

Daniel stepped closer, voice low, intimate. “And the sisters, they’re not just distractions. Carmen is orchestrating small provocations, nothing overt yet, but designed to unsettle you. They want to see you fail before you even understand the game.”

Alma smiled faintly, the kind of smile that held both charm and danger. “Then let them. Every move they make is an opportunity. Every slip, every whisper, every doubt is a clue. They think they are hunting me. In truth, they are revealing themselves.”

Daniel’s eyes darkened, a mixture of admiration, desire, and worry. “You’re good. Too good. And I can’t help it; I’m drawn to you. Let’s always be careful. My uncle, he’s not forgiving. Not anyone who steps out of line.” He stated again for the umpteenth time.

Alma’s gaze met his, steady, unwavering. “I’ve never sought forgiveness,” she said quietly. “Only opportunity. And sometimes, justice.”

He reached out, brushing a hand over hers just enough to make the pulse quicken, yet not enough to compromise discretion. “Then let me be there,” he murmured. “Not just as an observer. Not just as a witness. Not as an ally.”

Alma felt the weight of the moment, the tension, the danger, the attraction. She allowed the smallest of smiles, a flicker of something warm, almost dangerous. “Careful, yourself, Daniel.”

He smiled faintly, leaning closer, whispering in a tone that made the hair on her arms rise. “Sometimes the riskiest ones are what make life worth playing for.”

The night stretched on. Madrid glimmered below them, oblivious to the games, the alliances, and the sparks that were igniting in the shadows of the Soler penthouse. Alma’s mind raced with possibilities, calculations, and strategy. Daniel’s presence was a rare comfort, but also a temptation she could ill afford and Víctor’s suspicion were converging, setting the stage for the inevitable confrontation that would determine not only who held power in the Soler family but who would survive the dangerous web of ambition, love, and revenge?