I'm buried in my office, the desk a mess of files, coffee cups, and my laptop glowing with the digital copy of the Alverez will. The screen's light burns my eyes as I scroll through the text, each line feeling like a step into a trap. Sienna Alverez, majority shareholder of Alverez Corp. The words stare back, bold and impossible. If this is real, Sienna owns the company, not Ricardo. My fingers hover over the keyboard. Why would he hide this from her?
I push a stack of papers aside, my blouse wrinkled from hours of sitting. My office is small, the air stale, but it's my space to think. Sienna's been my best friend since we were kids, giggling over secrets, promising to always have each other's backs. Now, I'm her lawyer, and this will could change everything. But if I dig too deep, I might hurt her more than I help.
I grab my phone and call Elena Torres, the estate's archivist. She's been organizing the Alverez records for decades. If anyone knows where the original will is, it's her. The phone rings three times before she answers.
"Clara, it's late," Elena says, her voice clipped, like I've interrupted something. "What do you want?"
"I'm looking at Mrs. Alverez's will," I say, keeping my tone even. "The original, not the digital version. Can you get it for me?"
Silence stretches on the other end. "That's not in the main archives," she says finally. "Mr. Alverez keeps it in his private vault. Nobody gets in there without his say-so."
My grip tightens on the phone. Ricardo's vault is a fortress, cameras, guards, and locks I can't crack. "Can you pull some strings, Elena? I need to see it."
She laughs, sharp and short. "You're joking, right? He'd fire me just for asking. Whatever's in that vault, Clara, he's guarding it like his life depends on it."
I swallow hard. "Thanks anyway. I'll handle it." I hang up, my mind spinning. If Ricardo's locking the original away, the digital copy I have is either a fake, or the truth he doesn't want out. I save the file, encrypt it, and slip my laptop into my bag. I need to get to the estate, talk to Sienna before her wedding tomorrow. She's walking into this blind.
I'm shoving files into my briefcase when my phone lights up with a text from Sienna: I don't know who to trust. My chest tightens. She's at the estate, probably surrounded by wedding planners, but those words feel like a cry for help. I type back: I'm on my way. Hang in there. I hit send, grab my coat, and head for the door.
In the hallway, my paralegal, Javier, is sorting papers at his desk. He looks up, pushing his glasses up his nose. "You're leaving? I thought you had a deposition tomorrow."
"Plans changed," I say, pausing. "Javier, I need you to dig into Alverez Corp's shareholder records. Anything tied to Sienna or her mother. But keep it quiet, no shared drives, just email me."
He nods, scribbling a note. "Anything specific I'm looking for?"
"Just anything that feels off," I say. "And don't tell anyone." I don't wait for his reply and hurry to the elevator. My heels echo in the empty hall, each step heavier. I'm poking into Ricardo's secrets, and that's a dangerous game.
The parking garage is dark, my car parked in the far corner. As I unlock it, my phone rings, Lena Blake, the journalist who's been chasing Alverez Corp stories for months. I hesitate, then answer. "Lena, I'm in a rush. What's up?"
"Clara, you're Sienna's lawyer, aren't you?" Lena's voice is low, urgent. "I've got files you need to see. Offshore accounts, shady deals, all tied to Alverez Corp. Sienna's name is in them."
I stop, my hand on the car door. "What kind of deals? Give me something solid."
"Not over the phone," she says. "Meet me tomorrow, after the wedding. I'll show you everything."
"Lena, if this is about Sienna, I need it now," I say, sliding into the driver's seat.
She sighs. "Fine. There's a name, Marcus Vellani. He's connected to Ricardo, but I don't know how yet. Just be careful, Clara. These people don't play nice."
My pulse races. Marcus Vellani, the corporate rival with a smile like a shark. "Thanks, Lena. I'll call you tomorrow." I hang up, start the car, and pull out of the garage. Lena's warning mixes with Elena's words, and Sienna's text burns in my mind. I need answers, and I need them tonight.
I call my driver, Miguel, to meet me at the office. He's waiting by the curb in a black sedan when I get downstairs. I slide into the backseat, my bag on my lap. "To the Alverez estate," I say. "Fast as you can."
Miguel nods, pulling into traffic. "Everything okay, Ms. Vasquez? You look stressed."
I force a smile. "Just a long day. Wedding stuff." It's a weak lie, but he doesn't push. I lean back, scrolling through my phone for any emails from Javier. Nothing yet. My fingers itch to call Sienna, but I don't want to scare her. Not until I know more.
Halfway to the estate, I dial my old law school friend, Nadia, who works in corporate law. She's dealt with Alverez Corp before. Maybe she's heard something. She picks up on the second ring.
"Clara, it's been forever!" Nadia says, her voice bright. "What's going on?"
"I need a favor," I say, keeping my voice low. "Have you come across anything weird about Alverez Corp's ownership? Like, shareholder stuff?"
She pauses, and I hear papers rustling. "Not directly, but there's chatter. Some board members think Ricardo's been moving assets around, maybe to dodge taxes. Why? You onto something?"
"Maybe," I say. "Can you poke around? Discreetly?"
"For you? Sure," she says. "But if it's Ricardo, watch your step. He's got eyes everywhere."
"I know," I say. "Thanks, Nadia." I hang up, my stomach churning. Ricardo's always been controlling, but this feels bigger. Like he's playing a game Sienna doesn't even know she's in.
We're twenty minutes from the estate when I pull out the digital will again, skimming it on my phone. The clause is clear: Sienna inherits her mother's shares, giving her control. But there's a handwritten note scanned into the margin, Ricardo's scrawl: To be amended. My breath catches. He's planning to change it, or already has. I need that original will.
I text Sienna: At the estate soon. Can we talk privately? No reply. She's probably caught up in fittings or rehearsals. I slip my phone into my bag and stare out the window, the city lights blurring past. I'm supposed to protect Sienna, but what if the truth breaks her? What if it breaks us?
At a gas station stop, I step out to stretch my legs while Miguel fills the tank. My phone buzzes, an email from Javier. Found something. Old shareholder agreement from 1998, mentions Sienna's mother. Sending now. I open the attachment, my heart pounding. It's a contract naming Sienna's mother as the primary shareholder, with a clause passing control to Sienna at age 25. She's 27 now. Ricardo's been sitting on this for years.
I forward the file to my secure drive and call Javier. "Good work," I say when he answers. "Anything else?"
"Not yet, but I'll keep digging," he says. "Clara, this feels big. You sure you want to go after it?"
"I have to," I say. "Keep it quiet, okay?" I hang up, my mind racing. Sienna's the rightful head of Alverez Corp, and Ricardo's been lying to her. To everyone. I climb back into the car, my resolve hardening. I'll get to that vault, whatever it takes.
The estate's gates loom ahead, iron and imposing, as Miguel slows the car. A guard steps out, his flashlight cutting through the dusk. I roll down my window, ready to explain, but he holds up a hand. "Name Europeanizes a sealed envelope and hands it to me. "No one enters the Alverez property without Lady Sienna's express permission."
My heart sinks. A court order? Now? I lean out the window, keeping my voice calm. "I'm Clara Vasquez, Ms. Alverez's attorney. She's expecting me."
The guard doesn't budge. "Doesn't matter. Orders are clear. No entry without her direct approval." He steps back, folding his arms, the envelope stark against his dark uniform.