Lucía gathered the two severed pieces of brass against her chest as if trying to shield a wounded bird.

The downpour was torrential, turning the avenues around the port into muddy rivers. Lucía ran five blocks, her worn boots splashing through oily puddles, the wind ripping the breath from her lungs. Water plastered her hair to her cheeks, blinding her, but she didn't slow down.

Every beat of her running heart screamed her mother’s name.

She reached the corrugated iron warehouse behind the old fishing docks. Inside, under flickering fluorescent tubes that buzzed against the sound of rain drumming on the tin roof, sat Don Rafael. He was a bloated man with gold teeth and a desk covered in ledgers, stale tobacco, and counting machines.

"Lucía," Rafael chuckled, leaning back in his creaking leather chair. "You look like a drowned kitten. I heard about Teresa. Half the market is already betting whether she makes it to sunrise."

"I don't need your gossip, Rafael," Lucía panted, slamming both hands on his desk. Rain dripped from her nose and chin onto the dark wood. "I need thirteen thousand dollars. Cash. Tonight."

Rafael’s smile widened, showing three gold crowns. "Thirteen thousand? That’s a fortune for a girl who skins snappers for fifty pesos a crate. What’s your collateral?"

"The stall," she choked out, her voice breaking. "The central market stall. Space 42. And the Ford van."

Rafael stood up slowly. "Space 42 is prime real estate by the main ice chute. But your van is scrap iron. I’ll give you eight thousand for the stall rights."

"The hospital requires thirteen! Eight won't stop them from moving her!"

"Then bring me something else," Rafael said cold-bloodedly, tapping a stack of blank legal forms. "Sign over your total distribution rights for the next five years. You work the stall for zero profit until the balance is cleared. Essentially, Lucía... you become my employee. My exclusive property."

Lucía felt cold sickness pool in her stomach. It was economic slavery. She would spend the next five years breaking her back from 3:00 AM to dusk just to hand every copper coin over to this monster.

"Do we have a deal?" Rafael slid a greasy ballpoint pen across the desk. "Or should I call the morgue down at the county hospital and tell them to save a slab for Teresa?"

Lucía reached for the pen. Her hand shook so violently she could barely close her fingers around the plastic casing. She pressed the tip to the paper.

*Bang!*

The heavy corrugated metal door of the warehouse was kicked off its track with a deafening screech.

A gust of sea wind and rain swept into the room, scattering ledgers and paperwork across the floor. Rafael’s two bodyguards reached under their jackets, but before they could draw, a figure stepped into the light.

It was Mateo.

He was soaked to the bone, his expensive cashmere sweater clinging to his broad shoulders, his glasses speckled with rain. His face was pure stone.

"Put the pen down, Lucía," Mateo said.

"Who the hell are you?" Rafael barked, rising from his chair. "Boys, throw this pretty boy into the harbor!"

Mateo didn't even look at the two thugs. He reached into his coat and produced a thick, wax-sealed bank envelope, slamming it onto Rafael’s desk with a force that rattled the wood.

"Fifteen thousand in cashier’s drafts," Mateo said, his voice slicing through the drumming rain. "And if you ever speak Teresa Morales’s name in this port again, Rafael, I won’t just report your illegal lending ring to the federal tax police—I’ll make sure the regional prosecutor looks into the suspicious refrigeration fire you claimed insurance on two years ago."

Rafael’s face turned an ugly shade of gray. He knew who Mateo Salgado was. Everyone in Veracruz knew the Salgado family had once owned the commercial dry docks before their sudden fall—and everyone knew Mateo had returned as a medical prodigy with powerful allies.

Mateo walked forward, grabbed Lucía’s frozen wrist, and pulled her gently away from the desk.

"Come," he said softly. "We're going home."

He led her out into the storm and helped her into the passenger seat of his dark Audi SUV. As the door slammed shut, sealing them inside the quiet, leather-scented warmth, Lucía finally shattered.