The Vanishing of the Montero Heirs and the Law of Retribution
I looked at him, at the desperation in his eyes, the naked greed that even ruin could not wash away.
“The shares are worthless, Alvaro,” I said.
“They will recover,” he insisted. “If I can get back in, if I can show the market—”
“You are never going back in,” I said.
The phone on the desk rang.
We both looked at it.
The screen lit up with Matthew’s name.
I did not answer it.
Alvaro reached out, his hand hovering over the phone.
“Answer it,” he said.
“No,” I said.
“Answer it, Ines,” he repeated, his voice rising.
I picked up the receiver and pressed it to my ear.
“Ines,” Matthew’s voice was breathless, panicked.
“What is it, Matthew?” I asked.
“He is there, isn’t he?” Matthew asked.
“Yes,” I said. “He is here.”
“The police are on their way to the estate,” Matthew said. “The prosecutor in Madrid just signed the warrant.”
I looked at Alvaro.
He was watching me, his eyes wide, trying to read my face.
“On what charge?” I asked Matthew.
“Asset stripping,” Matthew said. “They found the offshore account in the Bahamas. Someone else leaked it.”