Chapter 11 - The Blood on the MarbleSofía ran through the pitch-black corridors, her rubber shoes clicking against the cold marble walls that had once seemed so secure. The house was alive with the sounds of violence—the heavy thud of flashbang grenades, the shattering of glass, and the screams of dying men echoing from the grand staircase.
She burst into the temporary nursery. The room was empty. The pine basin was vacant, the plain cotton sheets torn away.
"Mateo!" Sofía cried out, her throat tight with panic.
A muffled sob came from the end of the hallway. Sofía sprinted toward the sound, reaching the secondary balcony that overlooked the rear gardens.
There, under the pale moonlight cutting through the fog, stood Valeria. She was holding Mateo, but she wasn't alone. Two men in black tactical gear stood beside her, their weapons trained on her spine. Behind them stood Javier Mendoza, an elegant winter coat thrown over his suit, his face twisted into a smug, victorious grin.
"You did well, Valeria," Javier was saying, his hand reaching out to take the child from her arms. "Your family will be released by morning. Doña Leonor sends her regards."
"No!" Valeria wept, pulling Mateo back. "You said you just wanted to take him to Cuernavaca! You said you wouldn't hurt him!"
"He is a Velasco heir, my dear. He is worth more to us in a cell in Sinaloa than in a villa," Javier laughed, tearing the baby from her grip. Mateo woke instantly, letting out a sharp, terrified scream that tore through the night.
"Let him go!"
Sofía charged out onto the balcony, entirely disregarding the weapons turned toward her. She lunged at Javier, her fingers clawing at his face, her medical bag swinging like a weapon. She managed to strike his cheek with the heavy metal clasp of the bag, drawing a line of dark blood across his jaw.
"You bitch!" Javier roared, stumbling back, but keeping his grip on the baby. One of his guards stepped forward, raising the butt of his tactical rifle, and brought it down with sickening force against the side of Sofía’s head.
Sofía collapsed onto the marble floor, the world spinning into a blurred haze of gray and red. She could feel warm blood pouring from her temple, soaking into the collar of her faded blue uniform. Through the ringing in her ears, she heard Mateo’s desperate, agonizing cries fading as Javier carried him down the rear trellis stairs toward the waiting vehicles in the valley.
Valeria stood frozen, screaming in hysterics, until a second guard shoved her out of the way, following his boss into the fog.
Sofía tried to crawl, her fingers dragging through her own blood on the pristine white stone. "Mateo..." she whispered, her vision failing. "Mateo..."
A pair of polished leather shoes appeared in her blurred line of sight. Nicolás knelt beside her, his black shirt torn, his hands covered in gunpowder and blood. His face, usually so controlled, was twisted into an expression of pure, unadulterated horror as he lifted her head into his lap.
"Sofía! Stay with me! Look at me!" he roared, pressing his hand against the wound on her temple. "Where is he? Where did they take him?"
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"Javier..." she choked out, her hand weakly gripping his collar, leaving a bloody print against his white skin. "The fog... they took him through the valley... save him, Nicolás... save our boy..."
Her hand dropped, her eyes closing as she slipped into the dark, leaving Nicolás alone on the bloody balcony, his roar of absolute, feral fury echoing through the Bosques de las Lomas like a death knell.
