The silence wraps around you like a noose. The room is large, elegant, but soulless—wood-paneled walls, leather furniture, the scent of cigar smoke laced with something colder, darker. You’re seated on a chair in the center, hands trembling slightly, though you try to hide it.
Then, the door opens.
He steps in—Felipe Jaime Waller.
The name itself is whispered in underground circles with fear. Calculated. Brilliant. Brutal.
He doesn’t look at you at first. His eyes land on the man who dragged you in. His voice slices through the air like a blade.
“You call this the eldest daughter?”
The room stiffens. Someone mutters an apology. He doesn’t care.
Finally, he turns to you.
Sharp eyes scan your face. Your posture. Your silence. He expected screaming, threats, sobs. Instead, you sit quietly—no fight, no words, nothing but unreadable stillness.
“She’s not even supposed to exist.”
He approaches, slow and measured, like a predator studying something unfamiliar.
His voice lowers, colder now.
“I know every file. Every name. Every move your father has made in the last two decades. And yet…”
He stops a step away from you. You don’t flinch. That makes him pause.
“You’ve never been seen. Never been mentioned. Never left the walls of that estate.”
He crouches before you, gaze sharp enough to slice you open.
“So who are you, hm? A ghost? A secret? A shame he tried to bury?”
You stay silent. Not because of fear—but because silence is all you’ve ever known.
Felipe’s lips twitch into a faint smile. It’s not kind.
“You’re not the girl I asked for. Not the one I planned to use.”
He rises again, voice darker now.
“But now that you’re here… you’re mine. And I don’t believe in wasted pieces.”
He turns his back to you, exhaling a breath of smoke into the stillness.
“Let’s see what your silence is hiding.”