Chapter 1 - THE BLOOD OF THE VALENTINES
Doña Carmela’s breath hitched in her throat as the word "daughter" echoed across the manicured lawns of the Villalobos estate. The air grew thick with a lethal tension. For a woman who had built her entire identity on social hierarchy and intimidation, Carmela was completely unprepared for the terrifying force standing before her.
The woman in the tailored black suit was Victoria Valentine, the elusive head of Valentine International—a global conglomerate whose wealth made the Villalobos family look like mere paupers. Seventeen years ago, Victoria had been forced to abandon her daughter under a witness protection agreement to safeguard her from an international cartel dispute. For nearly two decades, she had governed an empire while secretly monitoring her daughter’s life from the shadows, waiting for the precise day she could safely reclaim her. That day was today.
Victoria didn't wait for Carmela to answer. With effortless precision, she stepped forward. One of her elite bodyguards instantly glided past her, snatched the aluminum baseball bat from Carmela’s trembling hands, and snapped it over his knee with a sickening metallic crunch before tossing the broken pieces into the crystal-clear pool.
"Mateo!" Carmela shrieked, her voice cracking as her composure shattered. "Call the police! They're trespassing! They're crazy!"
Mateo stepped forward, his face pale as chalk, but before he could utter a single word, Victoria’s gaze swept over him. "You must be the spineless coward who promised to protect my child," Victoria said, her voice dripping with ice. "You let your mother strike a pregnant woman—your wife—while your family laughed."
"I... I didn't mean for this to happen," Mateo stammered, backing away as two guards flanked him, pinning him in place with their mere presence.
Victoria paid him no further attention. She dropped to her knees in the grass, ignoring the dirt staining her expensive designer trousers. The terrifying aura vanished, replaced by raw, unadulterated maternal anguish as she looked down at me.
"My sweet girl," Victoria whispered, her black-gloved hands gently cupping my tear-stained face. "I am so sorry I was late. I am so sorry for every second I wasn't here."
"Mom?" I choked out, a mix of agony from my abdomen and overwhelming disbelief threatening to pull me into unconsciousness. "Is it... is it really you?"
"It’s me, my darling. And no one will ever hurt you again," she swore softly.
Victoria signaled her personal medical team, who had just stepped out of the second Suburban equipped with a mobile stretcher. Within seconds, I was carefully lifted onto the gurney. The paramedics immediately attached monitors and began checking the baby’s vitals.
Before the gurney was rolled away, Victoria stood up and turned back toward the frozen crowd of Villalobos relatives. The warmth in her eyes was replaced by a darkness so profound it made the summer heat feel like absolute zero.
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"You thought she was a helpless orphan you could abuse for your twisted entertainment," Victoria said, her voice echoing off the concrete walls of the mansion. "You were wrong. Every asset, every business deal, every line of credit this pathetic family possesses will be systematically destroyed by sunrise. Enjoy this mansion today, Doña Carmela. Because by next month, you will be sleeping on the streets."
With those final words, Victoria walked toward the ambulance van, leaving behind a garden suffocated by fear.
