Chapter 3 - THE STRUGGLE IN THE SHADOWS
Three weeks after my humiliation at the Salcedo mansion, I was working twelve-hour shifts at a small 24-hour pharmacy in downtown Monterrey, stocking shelves and managing inventory.
My life had returned to a brutal, exhausting rhythm. Wake up at five, work until six in the evening, take a thirty-minute bus ride to a second job as a late-night data entry clerk, and return to my mother's small concrete house at midnight.
My father's debt collectors were relentless. Every Tuesday, a man named Mario—a smooth-talking representative from Cárdenas Financial Services—would show up at our door with a clip-board and a subtle threat.
"Your monthly payment is due, Miss Valeria," Mario said one humid afternoon, leaning against our rusted metal front gate. "Interest rates went up this quarter. If you can't cover the full thirty thousand pesos today, we will begin the legal repossession process on this property."
I stared at the paperwork he handed me. "Thirty thousand? The agreement was twenty thousand a month!"
"Management adjusted the terms," Mario said with a greasy smile. "Corporate policy."
I looked at the corporate logo printed at the top of the invoice: Cárdenas Financial Services—a subsidiary of Grupo Salcedo.
My blood ran cold. Rogelio Cárdenas didn't just fire me; his financial firm owned my father's defaulted debt. They had been squeezing my family for over two years, using high interest rates to keep us trapped in permanent financial servitude.
"I need three days," I said, my teeth clenched.
"You have until Friday at five," Mario warned before stepping into his black sedan. "After that, the sheriff comes with the locks."
That night, as I sat at my small kitchen table surrounded by balance sheets and unpaid bills, my mother set a cup of warm tea beside me.
"Valeria, my child," my mother whispered, her hands rough from years of factory labor. "Sell the house. Let them have it. You need to go back to medical school. You are wasting your mind working yourself to death for a debt that wasn't yours."
"If we sell the house, Mama, where will you live?" I asked softly, taking her thin hands in mine. "No. I started this, and I will finish it. I won't let men like Rogelio Cárdenas steal the only thing Papa left for us."
The next afternoon, while on my break at the pharmacy, a high-end luxury SUV pulled up to the curb outside.
The door opened, and Don Alejandro Salcedo stepped out, wearing a tailored charcoal suit. He walked into the brightly lit pharmacy, his presence instantly drawing the attention of the young cashier.
Don Alejandro walked straight up to my aisle, looking down at the box of medical supplies I was holding.
"You're hard to find, Valeria," Don Alejandro said quietly.
"I'm working, Don Alejandro," I replied, placing the box on the shelf. "If your wife sent you to tell me to stay away from Mateo, you can assure her I haven't contacted him."
"Beatriz didn't send me," Don Alejandro said, taking a step closer. "And Mateo hasn't stopped talking about you since the night you left."
I paused, looking up at the powerful businessman. "How is he?"
"He hasn't missed a single day of class," Don Alejandro revealed, a tiny smile touching his lips. "He locks himself in the library every night. Last Friday, he took the mock entrance exam for the National Engineering Institute. He scored in the top five percent in the state."
A wave of quiet pride washed over my chest, but I kept my face composure still. "He was always smart, Don Alejandro. He just needed someone to stop treating him like a lost cause."
Don Alejandro took a breath, his expression turning serious. "I didn't come here just to give you good news, Valeria. I came because I ran a check on the firm collecting your father's debt."
I narrowed my eyes. "Cárdenas Financial."
"Rogelio has been quietly buying up defaulted personal loans from failing logistics companies across the state for the past five years," Don Alejandro said, lowering his voice. "He uses Grupo Salcedo's offshore capital to buy them for pennies on the dollar, then uses predatory interest tactics to squeeze the families. Your father's debt... it wasn't three million pesos, Valeria. The original principle was only eight hundred thousand."
I gasped, dropping the inventory clipboard onto the floor. "What?"
"Rogelio falsified the interest compound records," Don Alejandro explained grimly. "He’s been doing it to dozens of families. And I believe he’s using those illegal profits to fund a hostile takeover of Grupo Salcedo before the annual shareholders' meeting next month."
Don Alejandro looked directly into my eyes. "You have a pre-med background, but Mateo told me you were also auditing forensic accounting classes before you dropped out. Is that true?"
"Yes," I whispered. "My father wanted me to understand business law before I chose a medical specialty."
Don Alejandro reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek USB drive.
"Inside this drive are the encrypted transaction ledgers for Cárdenas Financial Services from the past three years," Don Alejandro said. "My internal auditors can't touch them without triggering Rogelio's legal alarms. But an independent mind—someone who understands how Rogelio operates—might find the missing link."
May you like
"Why are you giving this to me?" I asked, staring at the small silver drive.
"Because you saved my son when I didn't know how," Don Alejandro said softly. "And because it's time Rogelio Cárdenas learned that the people he tramples on aren't as powerless as he thinks."
