Chapter 4 - THE MIDNIGHT AUDIT
For seven straight nights, I didn't sleep more than two hours a day.
While the city slept, my small bedroom transformed into a high-stakes financial intelligence center. I borrowed an old high-performance laptop from a friend at the university, plugged in Don Alejandro’s USB drive, and dove deep into the complex matrix of shell companies, wire transfers, and loan restructuring agreements created by Rogelio Cárdenas.
My forensic accounting training from my early college days kicked in with ferocious intensity.
The math didn't lie.
Rogelio had established a network of six offshore entities registered in the Cayman Islands. He was systematically transferring capital out of Grupo Salcedo’s main construction development fund, marking those withdrawals as "equipment maintenance fees."
That stolen corporate capital was then funneled into Cárdenas Financial Services, which he used to purchase high-risk defaulted loans—including my late father's.
By artificially inflating the interest rates on these loans through illegal internal clauses, Rogelio was generating clean, un-audited profit that he was secretly using to buy up voting shares of Grupo Salcedo stock under nominee accounts.
He wasn't just squeezing poor families for money; he was using our suffering to finance his silent coup against Don Alejandro.
On Thursday morning, as I was cross-referencing my father's original loan contract with the master ledger, my phone rang.
It was a video call from an unlisted number.
I answered it, setting the phone against a stack of books.
Mateo's face appeared on the screen. He was sitting in the library of the Salcedo estate, surrounded by thick engineering manuals, looking tired but sharper than I had ever seen him.
"Valeria," he said, his voice instantly bringing a rush of warmth to my tired chest. "I had to use a burn phone to call you. My mother is still checking my main device."
"Mateo," I smiled despite myself. "You shouldn't be risking this."
"I took the official National Engineering Institute exam yesterday," Mateo said, unable to hide the bright grin spreading across his face. "The preliminary results came out two hours ago."
"And?" I held my breath.
"I ranked 2nd overall in the entire state region," he said softly. "Out of four thousand applicants."
I covered my mouth with my hand, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. "I knew it... I knew you had it in you, Mateo."
"I didn't do it for my parents, Valeria," Mateo said, looking straight into the camera lens with intense conviction. "I did it because you were the only person who looked at me and didn't see an idiot. I'm moving out of this house next week. I accepted a full housing package at the university campus."
"Mateo, your mother—"
"My mother cares about appearances; she doesn't care about me," Mateo interrupted firmly. "My father came into my room last night. He told me he saw you at the pharmacy."
I went quiet, listening.
"He told me what you're doing with the financial files," Mateo continued. "Valeria... Rogelio knows someone is poking around Cárdenas Financial. Mario reported back to him that you stopped asking for extra time on your father's debt. Rogelio suspects my father is planning a move."
"I'm almost done, Mateo," I said, pointing the phone screen toward my laptop where hundreds of line items were highlighted in bright red. "I found the master link. Rogelio didn't just inflate interest rates. He forged my father's signature on a secondary mortgage guarantee six months after my father had already passed away."
Mateo’s jaw dropped. "That’s criminal forgery and identity theft. That carries a mandatory ten-year prison sentence."
"Yes," I said, my voice hardening into steel. "And the original digital document contains a timestamp linked directly to Rogelio's personal laptop IP address at the Salcedo estate."
Suddenly, the front gate outside my house rattled violently.
I heard the sound of heavy boots walking up our concrete driveway, followed by a loud, aggressive pounding on our front door.
"Valeria?!" my mother screamed from the living room. "Valeria, there are men outside!"
I looked at the phone screen. "Mateo, I have to go."
May you like
"Valeria, don't open that door!" Mateo yelled through the speaker. "I'm coming right now!"
The call disconnected. I grabbed the silver USB drive, unplugged my laptop, and walked into the living room just as the lock on our wooden door gave way with a loud, splintering crash.
