Page 25 of Born of Vengeance

Rafael locked the door behind him.

The room shrank.

This was it.

The lion’s den.

And the lion was about to bleed.

Chapter 12 – Face to Face

The study was quiet.

Not silent—the estate still burned outside, distant shouts and gunfire echoing like war drums—but here, in this room, time had shrunk down to one heartbeat.

Rafael’s heartbeat.

And Valderrama was standing in it.

The once-polished senator had lost the elegance he wore like armor. His hair was damp with sweat, collar unbuttoned, a pistol in one hand that he clearly didn’t know how to use. The confidence was still there, but it was cracking at the edges.

The door slammed shut behind Rafael. He turned the lock.

“Who the hell are you?” Valderrama barked, voice strained, hoarse.

Rafael didn’t answer.

He walked slowly, deliberately, across the marble floor. His boots left wet, soot-streaked prints behind him. His pistol never wavered, aimed at the center of Valderrama’s chest.

“I said who—”

“You killed my wife.”

The words landed like a stone.

Valderrama blinked. Laughed—shaky, disbelieving. “Do you have any idea how many wives I’ve put in the ground, directly or indirectly? You’ll have to be more specific.”

Rafael didn’t flinch. His voice stayed level, low, controlled.

“Ana Silveira. We were staying at a beach villa outside Barranquilla. She went out for a walk. I stayed behind. Drunk.”

Something shifted in Valderrama’s expression—an echo of memory, perhaps. Or guilt. But it passed like a shadow.

“Your men took her from the beach,” Rafael continued. “Dragged her into a van. She fought. She screamed. Someone hit her in the head with a pipe. They didn’t mean to kill her—not yet. They were saving her for a shipment.”

Valderrama stepped back.

“She bled out in the sand. Internal hemorrhaging. They dumped her body in the jungle outside the resort. I found her the next morning. Face down. Dress torn. Her hand outstretched—like she was reaching for me.”

A long silence followed.

Only the distant crackle of fire outside reminded them that the world hadn’t stopped spinning.

Then Valderrama smiled.

It was cold. Thin. Mocking.

“You think you’re the only man who lost someone?”

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